American library books ยป Erotic ยป Slave-Girl of the Dragon Rider by Lisa Skydla (most popular novels txt) ๐Ÿ“•

Read book online ยซSlave-Girl of the Dragon Rider by Lisa Skydla (most popular novels txt) ๐Ÿ“•ยป.   Author   -   Lisa Skydla



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thrust into the next tent. Stumbling, she only just kept her balance, but at the same moment her legs were kicked away from under her so she dropped painfully to the ground. โ€œYou must learn how a slave is to behave. The first lesson should already be clear; when the master is in the room, you kneel.โ€ โ€œYouโ€™re not worthy of looking at your ownerโ€ came another voice. Sinja hastened to obey, as everything hurt from the heavy impact. Upright now, she knelt before the slavers, firmly keeping her eyes lowered so as not to give them any reason to punish her more. The end of a riding crop was pushed under her chin, forcing her to raise her head until she was looking into the almost black eyes of the slaver. โ€œAre you a virgin?โ€ he asked. Sinjaโ€™s cheeks turned red, she had never been asked so brazen a question. Everything in her strained against giving this brute a response; she should rather stand and spit it in his face her pride demanded, urgently, but she knew he would have no compunction against killing her on the spot. The riding crop under her chin disappeared, and the next moment his open hand slapped into her face, snapping her head sideways. โ€œSecond lesson, you answer questions immediately, without hesitation, without liesโ€ the man told her, quite calmly. Still shocked, she stared at him, unable to respond. Her pride and fear were struggling against each other within her, particularly as she did not have much to lose. Another slap, followed by a powerful kick in the stomach, and she forgot any resistance, struggling painfully to her feet to kneel before him again. โ€œYes master, Iโ€™m still a virginโ€ she whispered, looking stubbornly down at her knees, not wanting to witness his triumphant grin. She had now slipped so far she sat crouched on the floor, no longer daring to show contempt for her tormentors. โ€œYouโ€™ll bring me a pretty penny thenโ€ the slaver proclaimed with satisfaction. Sinja did not know what to reply, and so remained silent. He let her kneel in front of him for a while before calling one of his subordinates to take her away. Relieved that nothing worse had happened, Sinja sat back in her place to lapse into dark brooding; it appeared her virginity was to be sold, as if some base whore, but there was nothing she could do to prevent it.
The next week passed in a similar manner, resting during the day, driven over the steppe like cattle at night, Sinja seeming to draw no more attention than the other slaves. There was a bowl of water and a crust of bread once a day, no more, no less; enough to keep them alive, but not to stay strong enough to rebel against their tormentors. She wondered repeatedly what the future held, was this to be her fate? Would her new master be just as callous and inhuman? Or would he torture and abuse her as a sex slave? She often lay awake during the day, tormented by fear, but still not letting it show; she could do without any further humiliation, especially as there was a painful daily lesson on how a slave was to behave; kicks, slaps and humiliation being the order of the day, and with her, it seemed the slavers enjoyed it even more. Perhaps because she was a girl, but she was the only woman these people had captured, and accordingly valuable; from a few overheard snatches of conversation she discovered that not many females survived zjerta attacks, a cold shiver shaking through her as she remembered her own encounter with the monsters. The sight of the demonโ€™s head flying by and the bleeding corpse falling toward her was etched into her memory; reliving it in her dreams every night to wake drenched in sweat.
They finally arrived at the city, and Sinja looked up at the huge gates rising majestically before them; no one could enter the city as long as these gates were closed. They shone with a metallic silver, only a shade darker than the rocks of the Iron Mountains in the background. A push in the back reminded her that the tents had to be put up, as no one was allowed into the city in the middle of the night. She quickly turned her attention back to the heavy tents, which they lifted from the yakutas and dragged to the specified place. She had in the meantime become accustomed to this work, and did not stumble over the ropes so often. Today she was not so exhausted as they had camped much earlier, which did however also take away any hope of finally being able to sleep the night through although even total exhaustion had not been able to free her from the nightmares; but it was already dusk as they were driven together again for the night. Dropping wearily to the ground, she closed her eyes and sank into a finally dreamless sleep.
A few hours later Sinja was awakened with a kick and instructed to dismantle the tents and load them back onto the yakutas. She rubbed her eyes nervously, how gladly she would have slept a little longer, particularly since she had for once not been disturbed by any nightmares, but there was no way to sleep any longer so she scrambled up and went together with the others to carry out their tasks. The chain which bound them together was just long enough for them to carry out their tasks, but also meant everything else was done chained as well, embarrassing as it was for her when she had to satisfy the call of nature. This was a humiliation she would never get used to.
Caught up in her thoughts about the intolerable situation, she was startled by a pathetic roaring, immediately turning in the direction from which the sound came. Horrified, she saw a tall man torturing a dragon with an electroblade, holding the dragon on a kind of leash, the animal writhing in pain, cowering with every move of its tormentor, and Sinjaโ€™s heart clenched. Why did he have to display his superiority in this way? Why did he have to torment the poor creature? Disgusted, she turned her head aside and would have gladly blocked her ears to no longer have to listen to the miserable whining. A whip hit her suddenly across the back, and she stifled the scream before glancing at her tormentor. Quickly remembering the lessons she had been taught Sinja lowered her eyes and hastened to perform her task. The roar of the dragon fell silent, and she prayed that the brutal swine had not killed the animal.
Shortly thereafter the small caravan moved into the city once the slaver had identified himself, moving purposefully toward a marketplace, so Sinja had no opportunity to look around, but her first impression was overwhelming. She had never seen so many buildings before, stacked one against the other. Some were bigger than their entire nomad camp had been. She kept looking upwards to see if the sky was still visible above her. The beauty of the palaces and mansions impressed her, but the pageantry also weighed down on her. She was a child of the steppe and had always been free; the confinement, the crowds, and the towering walls all intimidated her.
On the market square, a small platform and two tents were ready for the slave traders, reminding her she would soon meet her new master. She glanced timidly at the gathering crowd as she was driven into the right hand tent, her courage gradually failing. The flap marking the entrance remained a fraction open, so she continued looking outside, but her hopes for a gracious new owner declined with each new member joining the crowd. The men behaved churlishly, some seemed drunk, and brutality was written in their faces, most even appearing filthy. Sinja shook her head, she was filthy too, and longing for a bath or at least some water for washing, so she should not look down on these men. She would of course rather serve a master who was dirty but kind than one who was clean but beat her and made her suffer, but the crowd out there brought out her worst fears.
She looked out again and was able to make out a small group of kolschas; the creatures were immediately noticeable from their giant balloon-like heads, with one eye on the forehead. They were hardly bigger than herself, and with her one metre-sixty, she was quite petite. Her father had told her about these creatures, they had a very high intellect, superior to most living things, but were animated by an incredible coldness; these monsters knew no pity. Her gaze crossed two seekers, former humans who had been transformed by the kolschas, used as servants to find minerals, or particular people, should someone have risked their disfavour; Sinja trembling at the thought that she might be given to these creatures. Also in the group were some dugies, shrouded in their mandatory black cloaks, only the white faces recognisable. These beings floated over the ground as they moved, with heads oddly elongated. Her father had never described the dugies, saying only that one should stay out of their way as they were abysmally evil. Before she could get a better idea of what was awaiting her, the canvas was closed, obscuring her view. Perhaps it was actually a blessing, as she was now trembling before what was to come, cowering terrified by what she had seen. The hope of being at least bought by a human faded by the minute, as the creatures out there had much more money and power than any mere mortal. Horrified, she heard one of the slavers announce the auction as holding a great surprise, and she immediately knew he meant her. She was startled as the tent canvas was beaten aside, crying out as the leader of the slavers entered the tent. He was followed by a man who at first Sinja could not really see, as her eyes were hurriedly lowered, just as she had so forcefully been taught. The slaves quickly stood, not risking another beating, and stared at the ground, Sinja only daring to peer at the visitor through lowered eyelashes.
Her first impression was that he was big, very big; then she noticed the long silver hair spilling smoothly over his shoulders. Above he wore only shoulder armour: heavy leather pauldrons, with a dark cloak attached, hanging down over his back. His pants were likewise in shining black leather, as were his tall boots, and in his hand he held an electroblade, like the dragon rider before the city gates. So he was also one of these animal tormentors Sinja concluded, her hidden view now wandering more closely over his stature; clearly defined chest and abdominal muscles, without an ounce of excess fat on him. He also appeared to combine both power and money, as even the slave traders were looking uncertain, anxious to fulfil their guestโ€™s every wish. The two men went through the entire tent, the dragon rider taking in each of the slaves, choosing two, who were immediately freed from their anklets by the slavers and dragged outside. Sinja shivered as they approached, the imagery of the previous day still fresh in her mind, when the other man had so cruelly tormented the dragon, though this one here looked even more authoritarian. Despite her praying he would finally pass her by he stopped, directly in front of her. To Sinjaโ€™s horror he put a hand under her chin, lifting her head until she was forced to look up at him. Cold, grey eyes bored deeply into her own royal blue, and for a while, he just stared at her.
โ€œI want to talk to her aloneโ€ he suddenly demanded with a deep, but surprisingly pleasant voice. โ€œBut please my lord, thatโ€™s really asking too
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