Rusty Derrickson
Strong Women submitting to men sexually and female slaves in peril
Strong Women submitting to men sexually and female slaves in peril
Secluded on a large piece of land surrounded by mountains and mist, sits a stone house with magical properties. As mistress of the house and thus its magic, Alberta Baker oversees a wealth of secrets, including the dungeon hidden in the basement and a wizard who formerly guarded the house. Henry, the wizard who has returned to his duties with Alberta's arrival, accesses secret lands through a portal, including a land where dragons are offered young girls as sacrifices.
For centuries, Henry has saved the girls who have both a rare genetic illness that causes them to die a painful death at a relatively young age, and who also are inherently subservient to any man who commands them. Alberta, at first appalled by Henry's bringing the girls into her time and place, and then allowing them to be used by men in various ways, finds instead that by retrieving the girls Henry is actually saving them. Also, much to her surprise, the girls enjoy training and then living life as Henry dictates. Exploiting their inherent submissive attitudes might be seen as bad by some but they are not abused and at least they live in comfort and safety. The balance between lands is delicate and must be protected.
When the time arrives for Alberta to change roles, she must locate a possible successor. However, magic once again plays a part, for it is not for the current mistress who chooses the next but the house that makes the selection.
Dragon Slave Chronicles: The Discovery is not intended for anyone under the age of 18, nor for those who might be offended by intense and explicit sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don't buy this book.
"Hot and wild, come prepared to engage all your senses in this sexy, steamy tale." -- Dee S. Knight, author of If Only For a Night
When we moved into the house, the basement walls were covered with plaster. I liked the look of the stone, so I had been removing the plaster to get down to the stone below it. I was almost finished with the last wall when a thunderous crack made me jump back from the wall. I thought the foundation had given way, and was horrified at the thought! When I examined the wall, the stone I had been working on was recessed and there was a gap around some of the stones to my right. The stones themselves weren’t cracked but the joints had given way. I guess it was just an automatic reaction, but I reached to push on the recessed stone, then quickly brought my arms back to my sides and backed up.
I stared at the opening, wondering what to do. Should I go upstairs and wait for Allen? I took a step forward, then stopped again. I walked around the basement for a few moments, trying to think about what I had found. I felt the calmness that always came over me when I reached a decision, and I knew I didn’t want to sit by and wait for Allen. I had to see what was on the other side of that wall.
I strode forward and pushed the stone. It receded further and the stones on one side of the crack protruded. The further in I pushed the stone, the more the others moved. Then I noticed that the protruding stones had notches on the ends, like handholds. I took hold and pulled. By expending some effort, I was able to open a section about five feet by five feet. My heart just about stopped! Hidden passages are not something I had expected to find in my own house. They belonged in Gothic tales or science fiction. However, right here, in my own basement, I had apparently found exactly that. A concealed passage or room of some sort!
I looked into the blackness behind the stone door, but saw nothing. It was if light stopped at the stone opening and could not pierce beyond it. I felt a wave of fear wash over me again, but something was forcing me on. I blocked the door open with a small piece of wood and searched through Allen’s tool chest to find the brightest light I could. I shone it into the opening and saw a vague outline of what looked like a room.
My curiosity was definitely aroused, but so was a healthy dose of caution. I put a larger block of wood in the doorway before ducking through to get a better look. I found myself in a large stone room. A heavy wooden desk and chair and some other things, which I did not recognize, were just off to my right. There was a slight musty odor, but it wasn’t as bad as I had thought it might be in a room that had obviously been closed for many years. There were cobwebs everywhere. The silence of the room was deafening, if you know what I mean. It was so silent, I felt I could easily hear my heart pounding. In one of the corners was a small firebox, and the ceiling sloped up to an opening. I passed the beam of light further around the room and let it sit on the desk where several dust covered books were stacked. Suddenly, the hair on the back of my neck stood up and I gave a little shiver. I half expected a wizard to pop up from behind the desk.
I noticed that the wall to my left had a door and so did the one directly across from me. Strangely enough I wasn’t really scared, just curious, so I went to the door on the left and pulled it open. In the flashlight gleam, I could see a hall with several doors on each side; each door had a latch so that it could only be opened from the hallway. Each also had a small hole so that someone could see in the rooms without opening the doors. The rooms were all the same, about ten feet square with only the minimal amount of furniture--a bed, a small chair and a chamber pot.
I retreated to the central, larger room and then went to the other door. I opened it bravely and shone the light in, then I just froze and stared. The room was so large the light didn’t touch the far wall. What I could see made me stunned and a little frightened! It was full of things I had only seen in horror films, like chains on the walls and what looked like torture devices. I realized with a start that I had found a real dungeon, with a torture chamber, right in the basement of my wonderful, old house.
I didn’t stay there any longer! I closed the door on the torture chamber, and walked as quickly as I could through the other room to return to what I had thought earlier was the entire basement. I was still shaking as I pushed the heavy stone door closed, and I sat in a chair trying to gain control of myself. After a few minutes I looked at the wall and realized I could not identify the door or the special stone, and for some reason it seemed vitally important that I find it. I got up and walked to where I thought the stone was. I pushed several, finally finding the one that opened the door. I counted the stones from the corner and from the floor, then pushed the door closed again and sat back down in the chair.
It’s hard to relate to someone now, but my emotions were out of control and I was completely disconcerted. After finding the torture chamber, strange feelings and thoughts were passing through my mind. It was almost as though I could hear voices (or at least noises) and they were trying to communicate with me in some fashion. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but something fundamental in me was changing. I needed to regain my composure, so I stumbled upstairs to make some tea.
I sat for quite a long time holding my steaming cup of tea and thinking back over events as they had been happening. It was apparent to me that the house had an ambience unlike anyplace I’d ever been. At times, it felt controlling and overpowering, but it had never felt frightening. In fact, in all the time I had spent here alone, the first time I had experienced fright was when I saw the torture chamber. Thinking back, I realized that there was really nothing to be frightened of. There were no skeletons or bones lying around; I didn’t see blood spots or any evidence of violence. It was just the thought of what might have gone on in there that made me uneasy.
I appreciated that when we found the restraints on the third floor our sex life had started to change. I was raised to be an independent woman. I had forged my way through many years of college and work and didn’t like giving up control of anything, so in the best of times our sex life was never a totally freeing experience, even here. But since finding the restraints, I had discovered my attitudes changing slightly. I also noticed changes in my body. I found myself thinking sexy thoughts more frequently and my body responded to them quickly and in a demanding way. I hadn’t talked to Allen about this but I found myself hungry for him more and more often. In the torture chamber, I had felt an overpowering draw of sexual tension and surrender, such as I had never experienced, and that had frightened me more than the thoughts of torture itself. I could almost smell the musk of sex in the room. Or maybe that was my imagination.
