Knights in White Bondage

By A. Regina Cantatis

It's Halloween at a fetish resort, and one couple's act seems too convincing to be an act. Queen Morgan (as in "le Fay") claims she's the real thing, and her spellbound slave isn't in any condition to argue. She's so blissfully mindless that she doesn't even remember her own name. She frightens even the lifetime submissives.

But at least one man remembers the thrall's identity: a straight-laced stranger who claims to have been her fiancée. He says she was kidnapped by a sorceress and he's here to rescue her. Any other weekend he'd be laughed off the island, but Queen Morgan makes a hell of an impression; so maybe he's telling the truth. Unfortunately, he doesn't make much of a knight in shining armor, and he's heading for a showdown with an immortal sorceress. That's how it seems, anyway.

Clearly, someone on the island is playing games...But how many gamers are there, and are they all human?

• Language: English
• Publisher: A. Regina Cantatis
• Release date: Jul 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311987402

A. Regina Cantatis

I might look like the hobbit next door, but I have a secret: I write slinky, kinky fetish erotica about mind control and total subversion of self. My stories are often dark because mind control just *is* dark, but sometimes I incorporate flashes of humor; and sometimes my characters escape or turn out to be willing participants in a game. Whatever the case, they end up enjoying their fates because I'm a sub. When you read about one of my characters being controlled, you're reading about my fantasies for myself.These stories involve a lot of science fiction, a fair amount of paranormal phenomena, and occasional robots and tentacles. They also give you steamy hot, well crafted, startlingly personal peeks inside my mind.

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Knights in White Bondage

By A. Regina Cantatis

©2014 by A. Regina Cantatis

Smashwords Edition

License Notes

This book is a work of fiction. All names, places, characters, and events are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to any business establishments or events, is purely coincidental. Furthermore, the licensed images used in the book are not intended to depict any character, scene, or event from the story.

This e-book licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Please do not re-sell it, give away a free copy, or claim this material as your own. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

The alarm rang and she slapped it off without thinking. Then she sat up a little and tried to think, but her brain was a pool of dark water. It was dotted by only a few tiny fish, and they darted away before she could catch them.

After a moment she stopped trying because her hands had wandered between her legs, and they'd found something unexpected: a ring fastened to the hood of her clit. She traced its circumference and tugged on it gently. That brought back a few of the fish. Attracted by the soft, shuddering squeak of the ring, they allowed her to catch and hold them.

Now she could remember. Mistress had given her the ring to help her remember. She'd said, For as long as you wear my ring, you are my thrall.

And For as long as I wear your ring, the slave had replied, you are my Mistress. Thus the spell was set. The thrall mouthed the words again and turned to look at her owner. Even asleep, Queen Morgan was the most powerful being on the planet. She was also the most beautiful.

Mistress had smooth, pale skin that was just a little pinker than the sheets around it. Her hair was raven black and long enough to spread across two pillows. Her eyes, beneath their lashes, blazed with green-gold fire. But her lips were best of all, because they were the tool she used to chant her glorious spells. Even now, after a night of pleasure, those lips were still rosy and plump. They were as perfect as Queen Morgan herself.

The thrall had also possessed a name, once upon a time, but Mistress had erased it along with everything else from her pre-slavery life. She'd left the thrall with nothing but purpose: to love and serve the being who'd enslaved her.

It was time to do just that. The thrall rose from the bed, noting the whisper of the silken sheets. It wasn't very loud, and the carpet muffled her footsteps; so Queen Morgan remained asleep. But the thrall had no time to be pleased with herself. She picked up