Lesser Monsters, Part 4: Captivity

By Kevin Thorne

A century after humankind lost a futile war to the immortal vampires, werewolves, and elves who rule the world, the young and handsome John lives in the castle of the legendary vampire Belle Helène the Conqueror, as a pampered pet and sexual servant to Helène’s two sisters.

In part four of this five-part series, when John finds himself at the mercy of the brutal brother Lords, his most unthinkable nightmares come true, leaving him battered and broken. He knows Lady Helène will sacrifice him without hesitation to achieve her endgame. His only hope of rebuilding his shattered life lies in the hands of another fearsome Lord. But can John trust him?

Warning: Reader discretion is advised. This is a dark ride.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kevin Thorne
• Release date: Feb 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311909633

Kevin Thorne

Kevin Thorne writes dark, high-fantasy erotica with themes of humiliation, dubcon, noncon, and forced male submission.As Kevin J. Thorne, Kevin also writes high-fantasy gay erotic romance.

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Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Other Titles

Lesser Monsters, Part 4: Captivity

Author Notes

Coming Soon

About the Author

Lesser Monsters

Part 4: Captivity

By Kevin Thorne

Lesser Monsters, Part 4: Captivity

Published by Kevin Thorne at Smashwords

Copyright © 2015 Kevin Thorne

Cover design © 2015 Jay O'Connell

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Other Titles

Discover other titles by Kevin Thorne:

Lesser Monsters, Part 1: Using John

Lesser Monsters, Part 2: Ruthless Truths

Lesser Monsters, Part 3: Unbound Appetites

Captivity

John came to his senses with a sick feeling and a rhythmic, painful jolting. Was he on horseback? He couldn’t see—was it nighttime?

As the fog lifted from his mind, he realized that a heavy burlap sack was wrapped around his head, blocking out all light.

And that his arms and legs were bound, tying him to the saddle of a running horse.

The horse’s gait was fast and tight, with occasional stumbles and flinches. Even through the burlap, he could smell the stink of its fear. Underneath his hands, the horse’s coat was slick with sweat and lather.

His legs and arms ached, and it felt like his liver was being pummeled out of his body. How long had he been unconscious like this?

The last thing he remembered, he’d been in the village, walking up the trail from his parents’ old cottage, sick with worry at its emptiness. He’d had to see for himself that they were really gone. Then—a flash of pain and bright light, and then darkness.

And now this.

A long time passed—hours, maybe—before the horse finally slowed to a trot, then a walk. Its lungs blew hard; its neck sagged so he worried he would slip forward.

A rough hand yanked the sack from his head. He turned and squinted against the late-afternoon sunlight to see a grinning face, teeth white against olive skin.

Sharp teeth. And a little too much light in those eyes.

One of the Lords.

A hand held a waterskin with flat, stale water to his mouth. He forced himself to drink.

A glance around him showed him something that startled him into stillness: ahead of the horse, reins stretched from its bridle, out and down, to where a large, ruddy-furred wolf sat with them dangling from its mouth.

A wolf, leading a horse.

Beast-shaper.

~

But who were they? These two Lords, these strange beasts who ran sometimes as brown-furred wolves and sometimes as naked men, dragging and hounding the terrified horse that carried John—and what did they want with him?

They came to an old farmhouse, gently dilapidated, the roof half-missing.

And there, after hauling John’s bound body off the horse like a sack of sausages, the two Lords stripped the horse’s tack off, their eyes lighting, their faces creased with savage grins.

And they shifted, sliding into wolf-forms, and slaughtered the exhausted creature where it stood.

Some time later, a rough hand grabbed John’s shirt collar and hauled him up. A scratchy chin was pressed near his ear.

She won’t come for you, breathed a bloodied voice. Not here. Even if she wanted to—let’s just say she’s busy.

That, came the second voice, and she doesn’t know where you are.

Laughing, one of the Lords slung John over his bare shoulder and strode into the broken-down farmhouse.

Opened a cellar door.

Descended steps first of wood, then of stone. The steps went on and on. Daylight shifted into flickering torchlight, and then—

A strange spray of light, winking on and off, like a galaxy of fireflies. Soft light, but brilliant white, casting a glittering aura on the walls of an enormous cave. A large building stood before him, partly built of wood, partly cut into the stone of the cave.

John was stood on his feet, wincing at the aches in his trussed limbs. One of the Lords cut the ropes that bound him; he rubbed surreptitiously at his tingling legs.

One way in, confided the Lord, pressing his face too close to John’s with a cunning grin. One way out. No, she won’t come for you here.

Who are you? John said. To his amazement, his voice was even and cool. He was too exhausted for terror.

Can you have forgotten so soon? came a new voice.

No, not a new voice, because it tore through him like an acid wind, leaving him shuddering and retching even before he registered conscious recognition.

He made himself turn away from the two naked Lords’ grinning faces, toward the sound.

Lord Jeremy stood before him, clad in heavy velvet and gold. My unfinished business, he said, with a fervid affection that made John’s skin crawl.

John forced his lungs to function, forced the air in and out.

Jeremy laughed. Oh, the fun we’ll have.

~

John tried to bolt, but the two naked Lords caught him easily, laughing. He twisted and fought, straining against them, nearly wrenching a shoulder out of joint.

Still chuckling, the Lords dragged him through the doorway, past the grinning Jeremy, into a surprisingly well-appointed underground mansion with large, airy rooms lit by lanterns and chandeliers. John was manhandled into a parlor, where he was shoved so hard he fell to his knees.

He looked up to see another Lord sitting on a sofa in front of him, regarding him with amusement: Lord Simon.

Ah, John, Simon said. Welcome. Allow me to introduce Lord Rafael and Lord Hesperos. The two naked Lords gave mocking half-bows to him. They already know who you are.

John’s hands curled into fists.

Such dramatics, Simon said. He leaned forward, his hands clasped together, his arms resting on his legs. Calm yourself. Nothing happens here that I do not approve. He flicked his eyes up to Lord Jeremy, who stood to the side, eyeing John with obvious hunger. As my brother well knows. Right, Jeremy?

Of course, Jeremy said smoothly, not taking his eyes off John. Even as you say, brother.

Simon looked back at John. I can hold my brother in check. If you give me reason to.

The words sent a jolt of nausea through John. At this moment, the calm, composed Simon seemed far more dangerous than the wolfishly hungry Jeremy.

John’s eyes flicked around the room, searching for possible escape. Nothing presented itself. His fury mounted; he could not keep a silent snarl from his face.

You’re thinking she’ll come for you, Simon said. Lady Helène.

John snorted. I have no illusions in that regard. After all that had happened with Helène, after her machinations, her threats, her casual dismissals—no matter what she claimed, he could not believe he was of any importance to her.

Simon raised an eyebrow. Well, that’s interesting. Has there been some division, then, between the good Lady and her favorite pet?

Brother, came Jeremy’s insistent voice, please, can’t I—

A moment, brother, Simon said. Your patience, please. The game is different than I’d thought.

Jeremy gave a slow, frustrated sigh. His eyes never left John’s face.

Simon leaned forward, setting his elbows on his knees. Many of our kind have chafed under Lady Helène’s iron-fisted ways for far too long. After the most recent war, she should have released us from the servitude she exacted from us. But do you know what she did instead? Decades after the war was won—when she had no good reason to require anything of us—she boxed us in. Forced us to limit ourselves to displaying only one aspect to your kind, to shape your beliefs about us. Made us ‘blood-drinkers,’ or ‘beast-shapers,’ or ‘glamour-casters.’ As if your kind were more than insignificant shadows.

John just stared at Simon. A smug grin grew on the Lord’s face.

And then John realized his mistake.

He wasn’t supposed to know