"A rich kid finds romance with a submissive girl"
Reviewed by Clare O'Beara
Posted May 31, 2013
Erotic
In ENSLAVED, a walk on the spicy side for a girl who likes
receiving pain turns into an erotic romance. Elisabeth Anderson visits bondage clubs in Manhattan with
her boyfriend, and one night three rich young men are
visitors. One of them, Trevor Brooks, takes a turn at
punishing the girl on display and Elisabeth is intrigued.
Some years later, after her boyfriend has decided he prefers
men, Trevor asks Elisabeth to come and live with him.
Totally unable to make her own choices, she has to be
ordered into giving it a try by her ex. Elisabeth has been locked in a collar, which must have made
it hard for her to lead a
normal life. Even though her ex assures her she is a
free woman, she has no idea how to cope with such freedom.
Brought up in a housing project, the girl doesn't earn her
own money and quails at exploring a Westchester estate with
bragging-size pool and tennis courts. Rather than enjoy
luxury, she considers that her body only looks beautiful
with bruises and welts. This adult novel by Shoshanna Evers is thought-provoking.
The setting and characters are described so
well. I'm not sure if it was the author's intent, but
ENSLAVED made me wonder whether rich kids would
be better in physical, challenging employment rather than
passing money around by making a few phone calls and so
developing what horse trainers call stable vices from
boredom.
Learn more about Enslaved
SUMMARY
Elisabeth Anderson has seen Trevor and his friends at the
infamous Manhattan BDSM club WhipperSnapper, where everyone
calls them the BAD Boys, for “Billionaire Arrogant Doms.”
The BAD Boys—Trevor Brooks, Marc Wilde, and Roman Chase—are
aptly named; they’ve made money hand over fist due to their
aggressive investing at the Brooks Wilde Chase Fund. These
guys are so rich they can get away with anything, or so the
rumors go. Trevor gives Elisabeth full reign of his estate in
Westchester, letting her do as she pleases. He has only two
rules. Rule One: she must obey and submit to him while she
is living in his house. Rule Two: always answer the blue
cell phone. She’s happy to oblige, because being with Trevor
makes her want to obey, to love him the way he seems to be
falling for her. But Elisabeth’s never been good at being
the quiet sub; she's feisty and gets off on the punishments
more than she does by pleasing Trevor. Elizabeth can’t submit to Trevor the way he needs her to, so
his friend and business partner (and fellow BAD Boy) Roman
takes her in hand. But love triangles can have sharp
edges...and somebody’s bound to get hurt.
ExcerptElisabeth unlocked the door and went to the bed,
kneeling. She remained as motionless as possible, her eyes
shut, to give Trevor the chance to see her before she saw him.
What was going to happen? To spend one evening getting
flogged in public was one thing, but to be alone in a
bedroom with a Dom she'd met once before was another.
The door didn't squeak on its hinges as it opened, but
she heard it quietly latch shut. And a click as the lock
turned in place.
She trusted Gregory, and Gregory said to trust Trevor.
Which is why she shouldn't be so frightened suddenly.
Weren't they just bantering on the blue cell phone not a
moment before?
Yes. She could trust Trevor.
She must—at this point, there was no going back. Or
was there?
Breathe.
So now she was alone now with him. With Trevor.
Elisabeth could sense he was quite close to her, despite
being unable to see him, her eyes still shut. A whiff of
expensive cologne that reminded her of
something—someone?—and then the heat of his hand
on her chilled face.
She whimpered, scared now.
She didn't know this man. What he was into. What he'd do
to her, or make her do to him. Men had some kinky tastes,
that she did know.
"Are you okay doing this?" he asked. "Do I have your
consent?"
"Yes, sir."
"Open your eyes, Elisabeth. Look at me."
She obeyed, and saw he'd dimmed the lighting, casting the
guest bedroom in shadow, though still softly lit. Sconces on
the walls threw golden highlights across the mahogany furniture.
"You look frightened," Trevor whispered. "Were you scared
I was going to slap you?"
Why would such a gorgeous man want her, when he could
have anyone? His dark hair, neatly trimmed, contrasted
sharply with green eyes the color of the emerald ring her
mother had given her before she passed. Of course, that
emerald was of poor quality, cloudy with flecks of—
"You need to answer me when I ask you a direct question,"
Trevor prompted.
Well, then. Let the games begin.
"I forgot the question," she lied, and gave him what
Gregory always called her "brat face," but that she
preferred to think of as a cheeky grin.
"Then I imagine you're not too frightened to continue."
Elisabeth laughed. Trevor was totally different from
Gregory. From the flogging he'd given her at the club it was
clear he knew what he was doing. So what did he need her
for? Certainly not to practice on.
"Keep laughing, princess."
She promptly shut her mouth, her gaze flickering
involuntarily over to the large duffel bag on the low
dresser across the room. He'd brought it in with him.
"I don't like to slap faces, but I will make it difficult
for you to sleep comfortably tonight."
"Sorry, sir," she replied, as nonchalantly as possible,
hoping to make it clear she wasn't sorry. Her nerves
continued their skitter jangle, but now she was in her
element. She knew how to force a man to earn her respect.
Technically she was supposed to submit to and respect him
automatically because Gregory had ordered her to, but that's
not how it worked for her. Never had.
"No you're not," he said.
"I'm not," she agreed. "I'm a fucking masochist. A
pain–slut, remember? Do your worst."
Trevor reached out casually and grabbed her by her hair,
twisting the black strands in his fingers until she felt the
sting on her scalp. "As you wish."
Nice.
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