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Enslaved

Enslaved, April 2013
by Shoshanna Evers

Simon & Schuster Pocket Books
Featuring: Elisabeth Anderson; Trevor Brooks
159 pages
ISBN: 1476728194
EAN: 9781476728193
Kindle: B009K54LKG
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"A rich kid finds romance with a submissive girl"

Fresh Fiction Review

Enslaved
Shoshanna Evers

Reviewed by Clare O'Beara
Posted May 31, 2013

Erotica

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.

Excerpt

Elisabeth 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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