Timeless Surrender E-Book

Arian Wulf

• Herausgeber: Boruma Publishing
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

Arya wakes in the middle of the night and reaches for her phone, only to find it's not there. Neither is her room. She looks outside, expecting to see cars. Instead, she finds wagons dragged by horses. Arya needs to figure out where she is, when she is, and how to get home. But there are exterior influences at work that make sure she stays exactly where she is.

~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~

"Where are you taking me?" she asks, realizing he isn't pulling her down the stairs to where the exit probably is, but down the winding hallway and towards somewhere else entirely. He lets go of her arm when she trips and guides her with a firm hand on the small of her back, walking briskly, but not so fast that she would need to jog to keep up.

"To the servants' quarters," he says shortly, not turning to look at her.

"What? Why?"

"To get you proper clothes," he says.

That's very kind of him, she thinks to herself, and then voices it out loud. "Thank you," she murmurs. She's an intruder in his home. It's kind of him to not just throw her out to figure things out on her own. The strangers outside of his home does not look half as friendly as he does. "And then?" she asks, the uncertainty of what her future holds making her worry.

He stops and turns to her, his expression serious. "You appeared in my home," he starts. "That makes you my responsibility until we figure out where you come from and why you're here."

She pauses, amazed by how welcoming and helpful he is. His expression is stern. If she were to meet him elsewhere she would not have thought of him as the helpful type. He had the look of someone who has somewhere else to be and something much more important that requires his attention. "You don't have any obligation towards me," her mouth says before her brain can catch up with her.

"You're here. For now, you are mine," he says and turns to her, dismissing her easily.

She is left spluttering and red-faced with embarrassment. She's never had someone talk to her like that before. "Just because I appeared in your house randomly, doesn't mean I belong to you," she says to his rapidly disappearing back before kicking aside her ego and hurrying after him, knowing there's nowhere else for her to go.

Leseprobe

Surrender 4

Timeless Surrender

Group Domination & Humiliation

Arian Wulf

Copyright 2020 Arian Wulf

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older. No part in this book may be reproduced, transmitted, stored, or distributed without permission of the author or publisher.

This steamy short story contains scenes inappropriate for 18-years and below. An innocent 18-year-old woman is stripped and taken for the first time by a stranger as several men watch. There are also scenes of humiliation, gaping, bdsm, spanking, and much more.

Chapter One: Familiar

Arya startles herself out of her be, worried about oversleeping. Her roommate likes to make fun of the way she jumps awake, like there's always an emergency situation that requires her immediate attention. Even if that emergency is actually work that doesn't start in a few hours.

She wonders why her alarm didn't go off and glances out the window to find the moon still in the otherwise dark skies. The outline of the curtains show as a breeze blows in and the holes in them reminds her that she needs to look for a proper replacement.

There's a dull throb behind her eyes that wants her to get back to sleep, but she forces herself awake, turning to check on her phone. Maybe it's gone out of battery, only to realizes that it's not by her bedside, which means she probably put it to charge in the living room.

Isn't there supposed a table next to her bed?

Her head aches and everything feels just a little bit muffled. There's a low ringing sound inside her skull, like a warning telling her things aren't as it seems. Slowly, she surveys around her. Her vision is fuzzy, but the more awake she is, the less she can see black spots dancing around the room. Everything is slowly coming into focus and it takes more than a few seconds for her to make sense of what she's seeing.

Her bedroom is dark, darker than it should be. She normally has a nightlight on, so the lack of light is more than a little disconcerting and she's looking around, trying to figure out where her lights have gone. Except where her nightlights are supposed to be, are just empty walls instead. She draws a deep breath and tells herself not to panic, but the  scent makes her even more confused because it doesn't smell like her room. It's too smoky and woody and there's an underlying scent of freshly baked pies that reminds her of bakeries, but she doesn't live near a bakery and nobody cooks in the middle of the night.

There's cool air coming from outside the window, but what draws her attention is the cracking of ember from the fireplace somewhere in the house. It is a familiar sound only because she has gone camping before with her classmates.

This must be a dream, she thinks. Everything's too different.

But she's too uncomfortable for it to be a dream. Her tongue is dry, pinned to the roof of her mouth from lack of water. She rubs the ache at the back of her neck and tries to remember where she is.

She's supposed to be on campus, but there's no laptop, no study desk, and most telling of all, there's no roommate. She steps off the bed with shaky legs and moves towards the fireplace. It's warmer in this room and the embers  are bright here, illuminating the room she is in.

She takes in the sight of the antique furniture and thick rug that looks like it has been a bear once upon a time. It's a lovely room, but it isn't familiar to her.

She moves towards the window, hoping the view of the outside world would give her a better idea of where she had gotten herself to. Maybe it's a period-themed hotel, or just a hotel lost in time. There are a few of those in the university town that she's moved to. Maybe she got drunk and followed a guy home, but there are two problems with that. She doesn't drink and she's a virgin. She wouldn't go home with random men.

Was her drink spiked?

She blinks out at the darkness outside, confused by the lack of streetlights, though there are what appears to be lanterns - lanterns?! - at certain intervals and corners. She appears to be on the third floor of a building, peering down at the streets with a frown that feels to be etched permanently on her skin. A wagon travels past her on the dirt track, driven by people in century-old clothing. The riders are dirty-faced and coarse-clothed. She pulls back and away from the window when she sees a cart being drawn forward by a mule.

Her heart tries to lodge itself in her throat and she swallows hard, unable to make heads or tails of what, where, or when she's gotten herself into.

Nevertheless, she has always been clever and independent. She just needs to find a way to get back.

The lack of memory is a frustrating manner, seeing as it would ease matters so much more if she could remember anything at all, but she shuts the windows and tells herself that she would make the best of things and leave as soon as she changes out of her- her night clothes.

She's in the middle of being confused by the kitchen when a deep voice breaks into her thoughts.

"How did you get in here? Who're you?"

She turns to the source of the voice and finds herself staring at a man who's too good-looking to be real. He must be a figment of her imagination- something her brain cooked up to make her panic a little less. He's older, probably in his late-thirties, but she has always had a thing for older men.

He carries himself very surely, though he is rather undressed at the moment. His dark hair is a mess of nest on his head, as if he had only just gotten out of bed. His white button-up shirt is open, revealing his toned muscles and his pants are barely hanging onto his hips.

She tries not to, but her eyes are drawn to the bump she notices between his legs and her eyes widen.

"What're you doing here?" he asks, drawing her gaze back up to his face, which is equally distracting. He's really too good-looking to be real. He does not look pleased to see her and he tilts his head a little, like an animal trying to figure out a puzzle. Then, his nostrils flare and he breathes in deep. "Tell me," he demands, taking several steps towards her, making her back away from him.

The movement startles him into stopping altogether and he stands a few feet in front of her, his tightened into tight fists.

"Why are you here? Who are you?" he demands, one question molding into the other.