Her Male Slave: A Tale of Men in Bondage [MultiFormat]
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eBook by Sascha Illyvich
eBook Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica
eBook Description: "A Powerful Look at Female Domination!" That's how Sensual Reviews describes the work of Sascha Illyvich, author of this extraordinary, insightful novel. Her Male Slave is a story of corporate seduction, a very dominant woman and a scheming employer. Anastasia Forrester is asked by her boss to use her Dominatrix skills to seduce his competitor, Jerry Norman. Then she is to force Norman sell his company over, or face exposure and blacklisting in the corporate world. It is an easy task for a woman of Anastasia's inclinations until she becomes the cause for Jerry's auto accident. Wealthy Jerry Norman's life is empty and lonely until he ends up in the hospital after the accident, sees Anastasia, and realizes she is a woman he would do anything for. Soon his resolve is put to the test as Anastasia demands Jerry's complete submission, and he finds himself in chains, being strictly trained, her helpless, willing slave. Ann Leveille of Sensual Reviews says "readers who enjoy Female Domination stories and tales of BDSM should find [Illyvich's work] much to their taste. And rated the 'Sensuality Level: Scorching.' This is real erotica, full of pain intermingled with pleasure and all sorts of specialized kink. Love makes the sexual scenes more powerful. Detailed descriptions of bondage, sex--floggings decorate these pages."
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler, Published: 2006
Fictionwise Release Date: January 2006
11 Reader Ratings:
One of the recurring themes in my work and in BDSM in general has to do with the need for us to step outside our roles and take a look around us to appreciate where we are and how we ended up where we are now. I loved the idea of putting together two characters with seemingly hard pasts and seeing how they could interact with each other, given their hormonal urges and the fact that human nature is full of stories where fate turns two similar people into lovers. Throw in some kink, turn up the tension and we have a hot love story/BDSM romance.
I won't lie. I used to want to be Jerry Norman, for so many reasons. Power, money, potential influence and the right to call his own shots. The corporate BDSM thing has always been a fantasy of mine. Strip me down out of my suit and take away my power, control me with Her love and let's go from there. Of course it's all just a fantasy, right?
I hope you enjoy Jerry and Anastasia's story. Drop me a line at email@example.com and send me feedback. Authors live off feedback! And remember, "love is control."
Sascha "St. Anger" Illyvich
November, 2003 * * * * CHAPTER 1
Jerry Norman walked into his plush office, looked around and breathed in the smell of new oak from his furniture. The movers had transferred his old office belongings to his penthouse apartment and replaced it with new oak and leather.
"It pays to have money," he sighed. "This was heaven." Jerry looked in the mirror, straightened his hair and smiled. He looked damn good and he knew it. He straightened his lapels and tie before turning to the bar and pouring himself a brandy. He swirled it in the bulb shaped glass, sniffed it and savored the warm, oaky aroma before sipping it. The warm liquid slid down his throat, rushed through his body and calmed his nerves. Jerry loved his money but was beginning to hate the stresses of running his company. Competition had become much more fierce now that the dot-com revolution had subsided and people looked to smaller investment companies to manage their money. Jerry loved what he did, but even he admitted that a break was nice from time to time.
A knock on the door startled him. "Come in." Jerry turned, brandy in hand to face his secretary, a brunette woman whose figure held more for his imagination than the reports she handed him. "Here are the stock figures you requested, Mr. Norman."
"Thank you Charlotte."
"You have a 2:30 with the board, a phone message from Nina and your yacht club. Oh, the investment meeting has been pushed back again."
She handed him a PDA. "It's all there on your PDA. The next week is booked solid, but I've scheduled your vacation after you return. Everything has been set up to your specifications, as you requested."
"Great. Thanks. Anything else?" Jerry walked to his desk, sat down and thumbed through the reports. God, Charlotte has a nice ass.
"No. That's it."
"Great. See to it I'm not disturbed until the 2:30 lunch meeting."
"Yes sir." Charlotte walked out, closed the door and again, Jerry was alone. Here was the image of a powerful CEO. He sipped his brandy again, returning to the calm place in his head. Alone. Content. That was Jerry Norman.
The investors were a ruthless bunch of old cronies who had to be manipulated into trading with him the way he wanted. Otherwise, they'd end up dragging him down with them in their debauchery. None of them played by the rules. It was a classic case of old guard versus new.
Jerry Norman was determined to have things his way and beat out the old investors at their own game, he'd just need to take some time in going over the notes Charlotte had collected for him. Jerry wasn't ready to sell his company yet, but once word got out when he was, there would be a slew of people clamoring to buy it and take on all its profitability. The old guard wouldn't get their way, Jerry Norman wasn't a pawn, nor was he finished. The smile that crossed his lips as he examined Charlotte's notes reinforced his smug thoughts. * * * *
The meeting dragged on far too long for Jerry. Old investors always talked too much, he decided as he walked out to his car. Tom Ward, one of the younger investors and an employee who had known Jerry since he founded the company, caught up with him. "Hey Jerry, do you have a moment?"
"Yeah, sure. But make it quick."
"I wanted to talk to you about your portfolio. You struck a nerve with your widespread investment plan and I wanted to see if that really worked for you or if you were bullshitting us to make a sale."
"Nope. The whole thing works. I told you guys to diversify. I follow the trends closely. It's all about what you're willing to put into it. Time, money, resources all designed for profiteering."
"Yeah, but who is linked to technology?"
"Everyone, Tom. It's the future. It's here, accept it and stop reading the ticker. I can have reports emailed to me at the blink of an eye and know whether or not I have VC for the next six months or not."
"I know. It sounds like you're pretty wired up to everything. Do you even have time for a life?"
"Of course. You've seen me at the Yacht Club, occasionally I have a trophy woman. You know better than anyone how hard it is to keep up appearances, so I stopped. Now I go home to a comfortable place and spend a great deal of time pursuing stock reports or watching the news."
"It sounds like you're also booked up full. Now I'll give you advice. Get out more."
"What do you mean?"
Tom laughed. "I know that look on your face. You're a young investor. Successful, powerful, you have it all. I just get a feeling about you. Old money doesn't describe it, but you still need to get out and live life more. I think you spend too much time watching your stocks."
"I suppose. But what else is there to do?"
"Live. Trust me."
"All right." Jerry's pager went off. "I need to get going. That's the office, I have another meeting scheduled in an hour and my secretary is good about keeping me prompt."
"It's good that your right hand man is so well trained."
"No shit, eh? Take care, Tom. I'll see you guys next week."
"Right. Hey, why don't you join me for lunch tomorrow? We can talk more then."
"I'll think about it," Jerry said as he waved and got into his car. He pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway. As he entered the freeway, he thought about what Tom had said. "Get out and live. It had meaning, but Jerry had more important things to ponder. Like the corvette speeding behind him in his rear view mirror. And the cute redhead driving it. His gaze wavered too long, because the next thing Jerry saw was a bright light that quickly turned to darkness.
Jerry didn't even hear the horrendous crunch of metal on metal, or the squeal of tires. * * * *
Voices surrounded Jerry, his body felt light. It felt heavy and when he opened his eyes, a strange redhead stood over him, her arm in a cast. Her face had been scratched, but her lips stood out. "I'm sorry," she said. "I had no idea. I wasn't paying attention."
Tears fell from her eyes and she had the most beautifully sad smile he'd ever seen on anyone. The words meant nothing to him as she spoke. Jerry had no idea why she was apologizing, or kissing his forehead and wishing him to get better, to wake up. He reached out to touch her, but realized he couldn't move his arms or any other body part for that matter. What was happening?
What was wrong with him? Jerry closed his eyes and let out a breath before falling back into his drug-induced sleep. * * * *
"Come on, Jerry. It's time to go," a soft masculine voice called out. Jerry stood up and turned around in search of the voice. He found the source, a tall gentleman dressed down in white khakis and a nice shirt.
"Who are you?"
"I'm the one that comes to ease your pain, Jerry. You're earlier than we expected, but no matter. Are you ready?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You're dead, Jerry. Your body is fighting and losing. Your mind has realized that you've got nothing left. Wasted years that should be given to someone else. It's time to go now."
"No," Jerry stomped his foot down. "I will not go. I can't. I have a business to run. I have money to make."
"You won't need that where you're going," said the voice.
"Yes I will, because I'm not going with you. Don't you know who I am?"
"Yes. Jerry Norman. Powerful CEO, big corporate man. We get your type all the time."
"What the hell do you mean, my type? And can't you listen to me? I'm not fucking going anywhere."
The man looked up from his clipboard and stared straight into Jerry's eyes. Jerry stepped closer to the man even though fear coursed through his veins. He wasn't ready to die yet.
"Tell me something, Jerry. Do you have a family?"
"No." Jerry swallowed hard.
"Do you have any friends?" The man glanced back down at his clipboard.
"Can you name them? Can you tell me personal details that don't involve measurements? For that matter, when's the last time you had sex?"
"Isn't this Heaven?"
"Could be. There isn't anything wrong with sex between loving partners."
Jerry shrugged. He couldn't remember the last one nightstand he had. For that matter, who the last woman he loved was. Well, he cared for Charlotte. She was his right hand person. But he knew very little about her other than how Charlotte organized his life. Jerry didn't know if she even had children or if she was married?
"I guess you're right." He sighed. His heart sank low in his chest, it ached. "I don't get to say goodbye?"
"To whom? The only person who loves you is standing over your body now, praying you'll wake up. She doesn't even know who you are, yet. Or that your estate could sue her for every last penny, which by your standards isn't much."
"Who is she?"
The man flipped through pages on his clipboard. "Anastasia Forrester. Professional, caring woman. Thirty-nine year old, never married, no children, two sisters and an aunt. By your standards, Mr. Norman, she's a nobody." The man flipped through a few pages and came to a list of names. "The only name here that will miss you is Charlotte's. And somehow, Miss Forrester is tied to her, but my notes are incomplete."
"Why is she crying over my body? Where is Charlotte?" Tears burned the backs of Jerry's eyes. He brought a hand to his eye and wiped away one stray tear, sniffled and stood tall. He could easily overpower this man if he wanted to, but then what was he to do?
"Don't think of overpowering me, Mr. Norman. Only I can send you back."
"Tell me why she's crying over my body?" Jerry's voice cracked. He was having a nervous breakdown; that's it. This wasn't real.
"I don't know, Mr. Norman. I don't know where Charlotte is either."
Jerry refused to believe that he was going to die today. It wasn't his time.
"If you were given a second chance, would you know what to do with it? Or will you waste it as well?" The man spoke plainly.
"Will I be alone?" For the first time in his life, Jerry Norman was afraid. Silence. The man looked over his clipboard at Jerry.
"That depends on how you want to be. Now rest. Your body is still tired."
That was the last thing he remembered before he slipped into unconsciousness again.