Ropes & Restraints

By Derendrea

Three modern bondage tales.
Sensitive ~ Miya is abducted by military-like commandos, but one of them sets her nerves on fire.
My Best Customer ~ A hooker is at the end of her line, and her best customer uses the temptation of sex to try to pull her out of addiction.
Sex Camp Part I ~ Helen tries out a mysterious camp outside of town in order to improve her love life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Derendrea
• Release date: Jun 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311047472

Derendrea

Derendrea is a an author of sensual & entertaining erotica. All of her stories are based on dreams.Recent publications:SEX BLITZ - Hayden gives consent to give up all control. Sequel to the Sex Camp Series.SEX CAMP - Helen explores the world of menage and bondage after being invited to a strange camp.SHACKLES OF THE GENIE - M/M story of an enslaved djinn whose only hope of freedom is a husky hunter.CRASHED IN THE OUTLANDS - An alien woman must rely on four sweaty humans in order to survive a jungle planet.SACRIFICE TO TANGAROA - A young island woman is given to the tempest in attempt to appease the god of the sea.SAVAGED - A woman is pursued by bandits into the wood, but then saved by a husky barbarian.SKIN WALKER - A Native American woman is rescued from would-be kidnappers by a shape shifter.FORGOTTEN - A young woman enters a cybernetic suit during an attack on her home. She must join with the being embedded in the suit in order to survive.PLAIN SKIN - The eldest heir of the king is abducted and sold to barbarians, who tattoo her skin with symbols of their tribe.THE SULTAN'S HAREM - The sultan's favorite, and least receptive slave has an unexpected guest.FOR THE KING - Three men enter the queen's bedchamber. She has the chance to refuse, but she doesn't.SENSITIVE - A woman with a 'sensitive personality' meets a man that sets her nerves on fire.VALKYRIE - A young New York man rescues a creature on his way home. He hides her in his apartment, but can he hide her from her past?A FOREST ENCOUNTER - Two traveling merchants make the mistake of staying overnight in a strange wood.COURTSHIP - A maid lives out her fantasy with her lord. (FREE as part of Derendrea's Erotic Sampler)MY BEST CUSTOMER - A drug addict tells the story of a client that treated her differently than the rest.Stories to look out for in 2019:ANGEL APOCALYPSE - An angel falls in love with a soldier during WWIII.THE SWEETEST FRUIT - A non-biblical retelling of the story of Eve and the forbidden fruit.THE DARKNESS OF SPACE - A woman is lured into detective work on a mining colony.

Book preview

SLAVES & SWORDS

Three Middle Ages Erotic Stories

By Derendrea

SAVAGED

Barbarian Erotic Fiction

COURTSHIP

Medieval Virgin Erotica

THE SULTAN’S HAREM

Erotic Historical Fiction

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidental. This is copyrighted work. Do not replicate it or distribute without written permission from the author. Brief quotes may be used for a review or critique.

© 2015 Derendrea Books

SAVAGED

MEDIEVAL EROTIC FANTASY

DERENDREA

Red sky at night, raider’s delight.

That is the saying the village elders like to use for nights like this. They say that the dark intentions of the savages are reflected in the color of the sky.

Tonight the dusk sky blanketing Thinadein is a fierce, bloody red. But I don’t take it as a omen of marauders’ grim deeds, but as a call for the young men and women to follow their heart’s passion. It is the red of love.

I set off to visit Perla down the neighboring street. My sister and I meet regularly to talk about our night business. That is, the mischief we get into with the blacksmith’s son, or the stable master, or sometimes with lonely travelers who come through town. We both have strong appetites, and just enough freedom to satisfy them.

Tonight I may visit the stable master’s son. He’s such a good cook, and though he’s quiet, his touch is tender. He’s always able to satisfy me.

Perla recently has started to favor Brawn, one of Thinadein’s best hunters. He’s a bit too robust and rugged for my tastes. Perla is excited by his unshaven cheeks and sweaty trousers. No doubt she has plans to meet him as well.

Down the main cobblestone street of town, I spot the open-doored stables. Desire, and a bit of loneliness, urges me to close the distance, but my mind talks me out of it. During this time of day, every milkmaid and dough pincher would have their eye on me, and the gossip about town would last for weeks. Better to wait for the cover of darkness, and meet in the alley behind the bakery, our secret spot. Flushed from imagining our passion silhouetted against the red backdrop of sunset, I turn to my sister’s road.

I don’t get far before I hear screams rise up from the southern edge of town. I whirl around, wondering if there is a fire or some other small calamity. But I already know what this is. Fear chills my limbs though the summer air blows balmy and warm. The elders, tonight, were right.

I hear hooves beating hard on the stone paths. Rough shouting and caterwauling echo against the cobblestone houses, the savage taunts of the marauders. Thinadein, with its mill and forge, and position on the crook of a river, makes an easy target. The raiders come too often and in ever increasing numbers. I know there will be at least twenty men on horseback caroming through the streets, knocking down peasants and grabbing what they can from the bakery and storehouses.

More screams. Hoof-falls to the south, and now to the east. I hear our town’s men yelling orders to one another. There will be half a dozen archers and our burliest men bristling with a hatchet or two, but it is never enough.

Two women come screaming around the corner, a block ahead of me. One is struck by the raider’s red-feathered arrows and hits the ground hard, the shafts quivering in her bloodied back. The other slips on the cobblestones and scrambles to rise. A startled horse gallops around the corner, its reins lashing the air. She barely spins out of the way.

The horse whinnies and bears straight toward me. Behind it, a group of men appear in their furs and patchy leathers, brandishing weapons and half-filled sacks of loot. Crazed hunger lights their eyes.

I manage to grab the reins of the startled horse. It is terrified, but it slows long enough for me to leap into the saddle. I whip the reins and dig my heels into its panting sides, urging it forward with my skirt pulled up over my thighs. Getting out of their sights is my only hope now.

The marauders are right behind. I can hear two of them yelling and hooting as their horses beat the road, then on the dirt path that leads to the woods. The sun is below the treeline now and I race into the shadowy space beneath the forest canopy. Pine and holly do little to hide me from my pursuers. I can hear them follow, closing the gap between us.

It was foolish of me to leave the village. They have singled me out, and now I am their target of plunder. I ride too fast to see how many of the raiders follow.

Something whizzes past my eye and bounces off the path ahead. It is a narrow dagger – one of the raiders is a knife-thrower. These monsters only survive by evolving their skills to an indispensable level, and this one is proficient with throwing blades.

I barely finish the thought when pain lances up my spine. What I presume is a knife has hit me in the back, between the ribs. The pain is too sharp to be anything else. An agonizing whiplash snaps through my lung and left breast. Then I’m struck again, in my left shoulder. My arm goes slack. I adjust my grip on the reins with my right hand as the horse powers on between my thighs. My vision is a blur and I’m unable to guide him.

They won’t want to kill me. Just slow me down enough to catch me. Then... my fist tightens on the reins as I stop that thought. I would rather die than let them have their way with me.

The next blade I hear before it hits. It strikes me hard in the thigh and is long enough to go straight through and into the side of the horse. The brass hilt presses hard against my skin. Darkness floods my perception for a moment.

The horse rears from the pain of the dagger’s tip. I shout for him to calm, but it’s no use. He tips me sideways, slicing my thigh and his own hide and sending me crashing into a shallow stream.

The horse bolts. I turn to the marauders, who are already upon me. They yowl and laugh, circling on their stamping horses. Water splashes me from one side, dirt from the other. The knife-thrower hurls a blade close to where my hand is trembling in the mud, then another into the torn skirt between my legs, but doesn’t cut me. Their intentions are obvious. Death is not the worst they bestow upon their victims.

The knife-thrower leaps from his horse and his smirking partner takes his reins. The knife-thrower is gaunt, angular. His face is a wreck of hard bone and scars puckered with stretched patches of skin. Even through my fear I can smell the stink of his unwashed body and bloodied animal furs.

Come now, pretty thing. You’ve given us enough trouble to be worth some payment.

I snatch up the dagger he threw between my legs and clamber to my feet, favoring my right leg. The marauder laughs, spitting dark saliva. He knows that I’m out matched in both size and strength.

Gonna put up a fight? Good, I like a woman with a little buck. He gropes his member, stepping into the stream.

Come near me and I’ll cut you a new hole.

My dress is soaked through, but the cool water gives me a sense of calm. The tearing pain from my back and shoulder pulse with my racing heart. My left leg, with the dagger still embedded in the muscle, trembles under my own weight. There’s no way I can win, but my body will not be their prize. I turn the sharp blade toward my chest.

Something large crashes through the trees. At first my fear-seeped mind assumes this is another marauder, but it all happens too fast to make sense of. The newcomer barrels into the knife-thrower, hurling him several feet into the air. Before the other raider can react, he is yanked out of his saddle and held down in the rushing waters of the stream. It is only in the ensuing stillness that I can properly see my savior.

A barbarian!

Over six feet tall, he’s dressed only in a loincloth and fur boots. His oily body is deeply tan and his