The Blacklands Series II: Dark Carnival

The Crimson Satyr, Thardasius, knew when he set out upon his quest to protect his people that he might well lose his life and he was prepared for it. It never once occurred to him that he might be in danger of losing his heart, certainly not to an enemy of the clan, a human!


Published: 05/2010
Length: Category
Word Count: 47,551
Genre: Fantasy Romance
Rating: Erotic, Master/bondage/submissive situation, language, human/satyr sex.
Available formats: : PDF, RTF, Epub, HTML, Mobipocket (.prc)


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The Blacklands Series II:
Nicole Ash


© Copyright by Nicole Ash, May 2010
© Cover Art by Eliza Black, May 2010
ISBN 978-1-60394-
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636


This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.


“She has no expectation of rescue.” Which was a very good thing for him if it proved true. He could scarcely afford any kind of confrontation at the moment, definitely couldn’t afford to have a whole village on his trail. But how could a woman like her go missing and not have every man in the area out looking to save her? She was an enchantress. The first time he laid eyes on her his cock hardened instantly. It took all his willpower to keep from tackling her to the ground and fucking her senseless. Her pale ivory skin was flawless. She had an ample figure, large full breasts and rounded hips that looked as though they had the perfect amount of padding to absorb a man’s hard thrusts.

One can always hope she isn’t a virgin. How could she be, looking the way she did? Virgins were hard to come by these days, but truth be told he hoped that she had at least some experience. His phallus was large by his people’s measure, and far larger than a human man’s. A human virgin would find it too much to handle, but a women with some experience …. His cock was now painfully swollen and throbbing with his need. It lifted his loincloth as though it had a mind to escape it any moment. It didn’t help matters that he could smell her musk. The scent of her hair and skin was driving him crazy.

He walked to the covered wagon, rummaging through his personal supplies and grabbing a loaf of bread and a slab of soft goat’s cheese. Just as he was allowing the cover to fall back into place, the leather collar and tether he had brought along caught his eye. He had been using it to capture the beasts on his list, but he suddenly realized he had a much better use for it for the time being. His mouth quirked up on one side in a wicked grin and his cock began to throb with unfulfilled need. He grabbed the collar and covered the wagon, then made his way towards the tent.

The girl was still tied in the corner of the tent where he had left her. When he walked in, she tried to slide further back, but the way he had bound her legs together prevented her from getting very far. Her hands were tied behind her back, which caused her sweet, plump breasts to be pushed forward and up with every breath, a fact his eyes could hardly have missed. He stood and devoured the sight of those luscious tits pressed so tightly against the corset she wore. I could suck on those for hours and die a happy man.

“Are you hungry?” His voice sounded harsher to him than he had intended, a fact punctuated by the wordless stare she sent his way. Several moments passed before he finally became irritated with her silence and gawking. Hell’s fire, hasn’t she ever seen a satyr before? It struck him like a blow that she likely never had. There were so very few left now …. He shook his head in annoyance.

“Are … you … hungry? You do speak Anglish, yes?” This said sarcastically, as he was becoming somewhat annoyed. His cock was not at all bothered by it and continued to press his loincloth outward. She blinked several times. It seemed that she finally realized he was speaking to her.

“Uhm y-yes.”

He walked closer to her with the loaf of bread and goat’s cheese in hand. Her body tensed and he could smell the acrid scent of her fear. When he was only a few inches away from her he knelt down and placed a finger underneath her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. When her brilliant green eyes focused on his face, he asked, “Yes, what?”

This time she looked up at him as though he had just grown a third horn in the middle of his brow.

“P-pardon?” she asked with a slight effrontery that amused him.

“I asked you if you were hungry and you said yes, and I asked you yes what?” he repeated as though he was speaking to a child. The look she gave him would have made him laugh out loud if he wasn’t so determined to ravage her.

“Yes please?” She gave him a look that said she wondered if he had lost complete control of his senses, and he wondered that to himself briefly. This was not the sort of behavior he normally engaged in. He was a satyr, not a rapist, and human women had always come willingly to bed with any satyr.

Probably why human men are so determined to kill us all. It was a natural part of every satyr, something they all took full advantage of when the opportunity presented. Their sexuality was contagious. Of course, in his experience it had always brought more trouble than anything else, but he was finding himself thankful for it this time. In spite of her outward reactions to him, he could smell her heady arousal and it was only making it harder to control himself.

She shifted her eyes from his face and stared at the two black horns that protruded from either side of his temple and curled around like the horns of a ram.

“No!” He purposely said the word with a bit of authority to get her attention back to his face. It worked and she was staring him in the eyes once again. He moved in closer so that his face was only an inch away from hers.

“Yes Master.” His voice below a whisper, he watched her eyes widen and then roll down to stare at his full lips as though she was not sure of what she had heard. She licked her own lips and her breath quickened, causing those gorgeous tits to heave up and down seductively. He tilted his head to the side moving to run his hot tongue across her bow shaped lips. He felt her shiver, but not with fear. He inhaled her arousal deeply, closing his eyes and savoring it.

“You see, sweet, if you are to remain here with your familiar …. ” He paused deliberately to gage her reaction. Her expression turned to worry and she creased her brow in questioning. As I suspected. The Tanuki truly is bound to her, then.

“—then you will see to every need and want I may have.” He looked her straight in the eye. The look on her face was a strange mixture of shock and arousal. It was a reaction he had anticipated.

“I –I … what if I refuse?” Her voice was shaky, more than a little breathless. Thardasius stood abruptly, causing her to fall back and she struggled to get back to a sitting position. He strode to a small table and laid the bread and cheese down. He then walked slowly back to her, only the tether remaining in his hands. Her eyes locked on it, intense and glazed with lust, following every move he made as he returned to her. Even though she tried to hide her attraction to him, he knew she was tuned in to his sexual allure.

“If you refuse, I’ll simply leave you tied up at the nearest town and hope your Tanuki lives long enough to do me some good.”

The look she gave him said everything. That was not an option she was willing to risk. No, of course she wouldn’t. Not knowing he’ll probably die. That twinge of guilt ran through him again, but he quashed it.

He knelt once again in front of her and pulled out a knife from his belt. She gasped, but relaxed when he started to cut off the ropes binding her feet and hands. After he cut off the bindings, he moved back with the collar in his hand and stood.

“What is your name?”

“Release me and my familiar, faun. We haven’t done anything to deserve any of this.”

Faun! Now he was annoyed.

“I am not a faun! I’m a satyr."