Crimson's Captivation

by Melange Books, LLC

  Crimson's Captivation

  by C.B. Carter

  Published by

  Melange Books, LLC

  White Bear Lake, MN 55110

  www.melange-books.com

  Crimson's Captivation, Copyright 2013 by C. B. Carter

  ISBN: 978-1-61235-593-1

  Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published in the United States of America.

  Cover Art by Lynsee Lauritsen

  CRIMSON'S CAPTIVATION

  C. B. CARTER

  Princess Crimson, from Sweden, is kidnapped and forced into the sex trade run by a vampire named Kieran. She is sold to Tor of Russia. Crimson’s lover, Viktor, confronts a captured vampire about Crimson’s whereabouts, only to learn that she is now a captive in Poland. Viktor leaves on an epic quest to rescue his love. Meanwhile, Crimson’s new life exposes her to sexual desires and practices she has never dreamed of. Will Viktor find Crimson before she is lost in the world of erotic desires? Or will he be too late to rescue her from a fate that women of royalty fantasize about in the parlors and salons?

  Crimson’s Captivation is an erotic, explicit fairytale, set during the Great Northern War (1700-1721) between Sweden and the alliance of Denmark-Poland-Russia.

  Table of Contents

  "Crimson's Captivation"

  PART I: The Awakening

  Chapter I: The Sunset Beckons Danger

  Chapter II: The Pursuit Begins

  Chapter III: Awakening

  Chapter IV: The Trade

  Chapter V: To Russia with War

  Chapter VI: Trekschuit

  Chapter VII: What Lies Ahead

  Chapter VIII: Appraisal

  PART II: Warfare

  Chapter I: Warfare and the Honor of Men

  Chapter II: Punishment

  Chapter III: Blunder and Restitution

  Chapter IV: Profound Attraction

  Chapter V: Safe in the Morning Sun

  Chapter VI: Crimson and Tor

  PART III: Relinquishment

  Chapter I: The Baltic and Poseidon

  Chapter II: The Dread of Change

  Chapter III: Noblemen's Hope and Honor

  Chapter IV: The Yew Tree

  Chapter V: The Sincerity of Deep Sleep

  Chapter VI: Love and Bravery: Foolish Things

  Chapter VII: Kiev and Risqué Tales

  Chapter VIII: Love Survives All

  Chapter IX: Culmination and Relinquishment

  About the Author

  Previews

  PART I

  The Awakening

  Chapter I

  ~ The Sunset Beckons Danger ~

  Crimson stood near the bank of Lake Karlberg watching the artillery, and naval forces, as they prepared for the pursuits of war. She listened to the distant sounds of cavalry that thundered from outlying villages, forests, mountains and gorges to unite with sail-fleets in defense of her homeland, Sweden. She secretly applauded the regiments of pike men making their way towards Stockholm, then to Denmark, Holstein or Gottorp. The pike men were supposedly ceremonial, but she knew the real reason why the tips of their pikes were made of wood; why the soldiers carried wooden stakes on their ox-leather waist belts and wore pure silver crosses around their necks. She knew why the other soldiers felt the pike was far more honorable and useful than the musket, especially during the shadows of dusk.

  Crimson leaned against ‘their’ willow tree and daydreamed under closed eyelids while she mindlessly tore the petals from a pinkish-white Twinflower, “Loves me. Loves me not.” The harvested petals twirled on the southerly wind and pirouetted as a troupe of suspended ballerina’s across the surface of the lake. Then came the answer of chance, only one petal left and for the moment, it was settled: “Loves me.”

  Slow, and as thick as honey, the pale recollection transformed into to a vivid memory and took over her thoughts. The kisses shared between her and Viktor, of his roaming hands, his tender mouth, and his romantic words. God, his tongue is clever and tender, she thought as she languished in the daydream. The way he deepens every expression with perfect wording and tone.

  Just weeks before, her passion, their passion, had assassinated the young boy inside Viktor and revealed the man. She knew she wanted more from Viktor. She wanted to be pushed to a threshold of pleasure, held in suspension until the very walls of her world caved in under the intense weight and threatened to suffocate any lucidity of realism. She wanted to be taken to the point where the world melted away. She thought of Viktor and savored the flashback. She had lost track of time, and dropped the spent Twinflower stem to the ground.

  Fading rays of the sun serenaded the well-worn path along the lake, and Crimson knew the dangers of being caught outside the palace walls after sunset. At once, she mounted her chestnut gelding, dug her heels into his side and caused the steed to thunder toward the safety of the palace. She could feel the beast’s powerful strides as she balanced on his back and raced the setting sun; she dug deeper, demanding more speed.

  The wind plunged under the collar of her shirt, fluttering the silk fabric against her flesh pink nipples. The top button loosened just enough to expose her left breast but she couldn’t stop, she dared not stop—the last of the sun’s rays danced on the horizon, soon it would be dark. Soon, danger would be about her like the encroaching shadows from which she raced away. More speed and the diamond necklace around her neck fell in rhythm, tapping the soft tissue under her chin and the reddened skin of her breastbone.

  There’s an enigmatic level of excitement in racing the setting sun. There would only be one winner, and she was fearful she had stayed out too long. The horse’s gallop settled into a steady rhythm when suddenly, as she turned a bend on the path, the horse stopped, reared onto his hind legs, and tossed her to the ground.

  Crimson got to her feet, brushed off the seat of her riding pants and noticed a silhouette of man on the shadowy part of the path. He collected the reins of her gelding and calmed the animal with a single touch to the animal’s forehead. The precious last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon and the path darkened. Danger awakened in the grave shadows and howled in the distance, sending shivers down her spine, and goose bumps ran up her arms. Every hair and nerve stood on end.

  Crimson was about to thank him when she locked eyes with the stranger. A chill ran through her and she froze, which caught her off guard. She was of royal lineage, and although a secret, it afforded her a certain prowess, and she bowed to no man, certainly not some wandering commoner on a path. The momentary beliefs of her royal position shattered and the truth emerged—this was no commoner. She drew on trembling breath and strained to look away. “She knew what he was and he frightened her. Her entire body cringed. A veiled force restrained her emotions and actions. She couldn’t act or react and stood frozen in front of the stranger.

  In an instant, faster than humanly possible, as if he was flesh one moment and vapor the next, the stranger was in front of her, caressing the soft tissue of her throat. She tried to pull away but couldn’t. He lifted her chin, exposing the soft, creamy flesh of her neckline.

  “Why struggle?” he inquired before placing a tender kiss on the corner of her mouth. She had no answer, he was far too strong and she felt powerless to stop him. She affixed her hands o
ver her neck, trying to protect herself and noticed her diamond necklace, the love-gift from Viktor, was missing. She tried to scream out for help, but her voice betrayed her.

  The stranger smiled, tilted her head away from him. He easily lifted one finger, then the next, of her protective grasp, and kissed her naked throat. He could feel her pounding heart course right through him. Her rapid pulses and thumps made the collection of her sweet nectar that much easier.

  Danger breathed new life, howled a resonating ecstasy deep into the dark forest as Crimson slipped into a mythical trance. She fell limp in his arms.

  * * * *

  Crimson woke in a foreign place with four chambermaids attending to her. She could vaguely remember any of her past. Visions and images appeared as notions of thought and little more. What she managed to recall came in and faded out leaving only the thinnest contours of memories. She fought to remember but her thoughts were scattered and riotous, she couldn’t rein them in and found it difficult to make judgments of place and time. She was unsure of the presence of her own body and it all seemed surreal. The oil lamps along the room’s walls bathed the bedroom chamber in a soft amber light as their black smoke pillowed out through open flues in the ceiling and Crimson felt she was little more than smoke.

  She lay motionless, letting her eyes slowly fix on the interior of the room. The walls were covered with sexual art of men and women engaged in all manners of sexual pleasure. Statues of females anchored the room’s corners, the faint oil lamp light highlighted the softness of the naked female figure with their full bosoms, open mouths and closed eyelids frozen in time. They seemed to be in song. Two statues of men with particular attention paid to the phallus, framed the doorway. Many of the paintings and tapestries on the wall were of an erotic nature, and Crimson felt a strange feeling of subservience in the air.

  The dampness of the room and the thudding echoes outside the door convinced her she was in the lower level of a castle or palace. She eyed the four women attending to her, looking for familiarity but didn’t find any. She was lost and drifted like a dove’s breath in this new reality. She wasn’t sure if she should be in the bedchamber or not and softly asked, “Where am I?” Her question went unanswered. The chambermaids moved as hummingbirds tending to a new flower. Crimson was left only to wonder.

  It wasn’t until the chambermaid to her left sponged jasmine and lemon scented water across her neck that she recalled being bitten on the path. The water stung the two bite marks where the fangs had taken blood and the memory of the path, of the dark, of the stranger, rushed back to her. She examined her mouth with her tongue, felt the slightest sharpness of her incisors and sank into the pillow in despair. She closed her eyes, wanting to escape.

  A chambermaid massaged rose oil deep into her skin while the other two shaved her legs and pubis. They all hummed as they tenderly worked on her naked body. Crimson struggled. She tried to sit up but leather straps bound her wrists and held her in place. The nearest chambermaid reached out with her finger and pressed them to Crimson’s lips, “Shush,” she suggested.

  The chambermaid to her left asked, “My lady, have you ever been taken?”

  “What do you mean?” Crimson asked as she examined the straps around one wrist debating whether the struggle was worth it. She wondered if she could breach the shackles, and what she would do if she could.

  “By a man, have you been taken? Do you have carnal knowledge?”

  Crimson nodded her head, yes, and tried to hold onto the memory when it surfaced, but it slipped away to hide in the heavy shadows of her amnesia. Yet, somehow, she knew it was her most treasured memory and fought to bring it to the surface. She vaguely recalled the day at the lake during the spring. It seemed so distant now. Her thoughts more of a hazy collection of feelings than a memory, but the power of it was full enough to allow the escape.

  She went back in time to where she and Viktor were under a large willow tree. They were both eighteen but he was far too eager to become a man and was clumsy and quick. His kisses were too hurried and his hands were lumbering. She was disappointed in the haste of the clandestine tryst and wasn’t even sure he did it right. She didn’t climax, but the encounter felt right to her heart, and she felt a connection to Viktor. She was willing to give him more and more chances to please her. “Yes, by Viktor.” She delivered the answer on a soft reminiscent breath.

  “I see, and how old is Viktor?” the chambermaid asked as she massaged rose oil on Crimson’s forearm and wrist. The other chambermaids stopped humming and waited for the answer.

  “Eighteen.”

  “Ah, just a boy. Tonight you will be taken by a man.”

  “I’ve been bitten, haven’t I?” Crimson asked as she eyed the woman closest to her.

  “Yes, by Kieran, my lady.”

  “Am I?”

  “No, you’re not a vampire. You’re a vampeel, half human, half vampire. Try to hold on to your memories, as they will try to escape. Just lie back and remember all that was important to you. We’ll get you ready for the bid.”

  “For the bid?” Crimson asked, afraid of the answer.

  Just then, the door creaked open and Crimson watched Kieran enter the room. Crimson recognized him from the path and her heart began to thump in her chest. She tried to pull her knees to her chest, tried to pull the bed covers up over her to conceal her naked body but couldn’t. She felt exposed and vibrant at the same time.

  In the doorway, Kieran was tall and muscular. His black hair framed his face and flowed to his shoulders where it disappeared into a silhouette. His white shirt draped his muscular frame and she could make out the hard contours of his chest, shoulders, and arms underneath. In his black leather pants, she could see the shape of his cock tucked along his left thigh and her mouth watered just a bit. She pushed away the thought even though it flooded her body with just a suggestion of excitement. Helpless, she closed her eyes, trying her best to disappear.

  “Is she ready?” Kieran asked the lead chambermaid.

  “Yes.” The chambermaids answered in unison.

  “Very well, she is beautiful and the bidders will trip over themselves to have her.”

  Kieran waved the chambermaids to the side of the room. Kieran approached her and Crimson felt even more naked without the buffer of her new companions, and again struggled against the straps. He sat on the bed near her hips.

  Crimson looked away to the far wall. She found a tapestry of a couple engaged in oral sex, the subjects seemed to come to life and she could hear the distant moans of their sultry and fearless mouths. She tilted her hips away from him and defensibly asked, “Do you know who I am?” Her body seemed to crave him and she didn’t know how to deal with the sensation.

  “Yes, you’re Crimson, lineage to Sweden and sister of Princess Sophia,” Kieran answered as he leaned toward her and placed his left hand on her shoulder. His right hand rested on the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. He whispered, “Listen, you’ll be presented for the bid soon. The chambermaids will offer you fluid and I suggest you consume it.” He ran his hand up her leg and her flesh quivered. She felt her flesh had a mind of its own and that her body had become a traitor. She was in a state of dismay when her body rotated, making her breast available to him, to his view, to his hands, to his mouth. He kissed the outside of her breast and his hand glided over her oiled hips and rested on her fluttering stomach.

  Crimson looked into his caramel colored eyes and became mesmerized but he broke away, stood, and walked toward the door, alas, Crimson couldn’t help but watch him exit.

  “Finish the preparations, ladies!” he ordered before the door closed behind him.

  A bronze bell chimed twice near the door and the chambermaids quickly tended to Crimson. The chambermaid who spoke before whispered, “This is going to happen, and the liquid eases you. You will enjoy it.” She then tied a dark ribbon around Crimsons’ head covering her eyes. Crimson and the darkness again. She considered when time is unlit, it seems to hal
t and she felt trapped in a moment of anticipation. Butterflies flickered in her stomach. The water drained from a nearby tub while Crimson was rubbed with rose oil and sang to.

  The chambermaids patted her with cotton towels and when dry, Crimson could feel the soft silk of stockings rolling up her legs, the sound of a garter snapping into place. A leather skirt was wrapped around her and tied tightly in the back. Finally, she was forced to sit up as an hourglass corset was placed around her and adjusted, followed by a loose cotton blouse.

  The chambermaid brought a goblet to Crimson’s lips and insisted, “Drink, my lady, drink.”

  Crimson sipped the fluid and went into a trance that felt like a misty daydream without color, without presence. Without worry.

  “Will Kieran be the man? Will he take me?” Crimson asked.

  “No, dear.”

  Crimson frowned and turned her head away. “Then I will dream of Viktor.”

  “Yes, my Lady. Dream of Viktor.”

  Crimson’s hands were tied behind her back and the bronze bell chimed again; three chimes echoed through the bedchamber. Crimson could hear the door to the chamber creak open, then muted male voices conversed with one of the chambermaids and Crimson was seized at each elbow and escorted out of the room. Her feet never touched the ground and she felt as light as a dove as the drugs coursed through her veins. A bewildered duplicity washed over her. She didn’t want this, but wanted the familiarity, the excitement of it.

  In the corridor outside the room, there was the smell of burnt carbon from oil burning lamps. From behind her blindfold, she could sense the shapes of light shift from light to darkness as she moved through a circular hallway. They were moving in a lazy circle and she knew they were moving to the center of the lower level of a castle. Two doors opened in front of her and the echoes changed from the confinement of the hallway to that of a large open chamber. Voices boomed off the stone walls.