Circle of Submission (Empress of Submission Part 2‪)‬

Aurelia is brought to the bustling heart of the Roman Empire by her legionnaire captors. She's handed off to a trio of beautiful female consorts who usher her into a remarkable palace unlike anything Aurelia has ever dreamed of. However it quickly becomes clear that the palace is not a safe haven, the Praetor is a sadistic and lustful man. He demands that pleasure be accompanied by pain.

Aurelia soon realizes that she must earn her place in the Praetor's court through an intense sexual initiation. Will she learn to love the painful pleasure that the Praetor inflicts and be able to withstand the constant sexual demands he places on her previously untouched body?

She must find solace in her new sisters and come to terms with the conditions of her new life. The walls enclosing her harem compound are covered in the chains, whips, and sadistic tools of the Praetors sexual trade. The first lash of his whip changes her forever, she's alive now, she needs him, and she will always be his submissive.

The Circle of Submission is a thrilling story of sexual inhibition and domination. This erotic romance pushes the limits of pleasure and pain, with scenes of explicit sex and BDSM, dominant males and willing submissive females. Join Aurelia as she ventures in the Praetors blissfully dark world in Part 2 of Empress of Submission.

Read on for a small taste of what's inside:

Aurelia began to pace, thinking of possible ways to escape. She looked desperately around the room, thinking that she might arm herself. But even if she took up one of the scary-looking instruments on the wall, there would be hundreds more available to the master himself, should he choose to kill her for her insolence. At a loss, Aurelia sunk onto the nearest pile of cushions. All that she could do was wait and pray to whatever god would listen that her new master would treat her well.

“Please,” she whispered, “Let him be someone I can admire, at least. I don’t have to love him, or think him fair or kind, but let there be something in him that is pure and rich and wonderful to look upon.”

The minutes crawled by as Aurelia sat in wait. Just when she was convinced that the Praetor had abandoned his notion of paying her a visit, she heard heavy footsteps ringing in the bowels of the palace. There was no mistaking that sound—they were advancing down the corridor to the bed slaves’ chamber. Aurelia straightened her spine as best she could and willed her hands to stop trembling. It wouldn’t do to appear a scared little girl, she knew. She had to present herself in the best possible light. If only she knew what on earth that was. If only she knew what he wanted.

The iron door creaked open, and for a moment Aurelia could not see who stood beyond the threshold. Then a huge, heavy boot swung into the light of the huge torch, and another. Aurelia fixed her eyes on those big boots, afraid to lift her gaze to behold the man who now owned her. The thought of looking into his face, into his eyes, seemed too daunting to even consider, all of a sudden. Aurelia felt like a little farm mouse again, alone and afraid and very, very small.

Silence as heavy as steel engulfed the chamber for what felt like an eternity. When it broke, it broke hard with the sound of the Praetor’s voice.

“Look at me,” he said. It was a command, but something about his voice made it seem more like a truth than a suggestion. Aurelia knew that she would always do what this man asked, as if his desires were piloting her own. She lifted her gaze and beheld the man who had brought her to him over hills and fields and rivers; the man who held her life in the palm of his hand and could do what he liked with her.