
Slavery: A series of erotic games (Book 02)
Aimen Mohsin · Completed · 268.5k Words
Introduction
This is book 02 of the slavery series.
Chapter 1
JULIA
Lisa arrived five minutes before we had to go. We'd packed some beverages in a cooler as the drive was over three hours to LA and could be worse depending on traffic. Fortunately, it wasn't a weekday, so the traffic might be slightly better than usual. I sat with Lisa in the back so we could talk. Scott made the music louder up front and quieter in the back so we could hear each other.
"Can you believe how hard it is to get used to wearing clothes again?" Lisa said.
I laughed. "I know. Underwear, right? I haven't worn underwear for three weeks unless it was all I was wearing."
"Probably just as well. They would have been soaked all the time."
"I'm so looking forward to seeing Zoe again."
"I still don't understand how you met her before," Lisa said. "My ex would never tell me about his old girlfriends."
"Scott started the business on his own and he started out small and as long as it was small, he ran it as a sole proprietorship. As he added more employees and wasn't supervising everyone himself, he wanted to incorporate. Zoe helped him with the paperwork. She wasn't a lawyer yet, still just a student, but Scott said she was one of the smartest people he knew. He dated her when they were undergrads. She finally told him she believed she was lesbian, that she was attracted to women. They broke up, but it was amicable. They stayed in touch and he still talks to her every once in awhile. When Zoe first joined Brianna's Baubles as legal counsel, she told Scott she was going to be a submissive to the owner, Brianna Worth. She invited us both down there to visit, shortly after Brianna moved to their current location.
"It's when I first met her. She said she was a sex slave and explained what it was and what it meant to her. It fascinated me and it's when I started reading novels about sex slavery. I guess you could say she was the precipitator of our slavery."
"So, what's the deal with her and this Sam guy who fathered her child?"
"I haven't a clue. Part of the reason I want to speak to her. We're both pregnant now. We can share tales. She's not the only one of Brianna's submissives. When Zoe first started, there were around six or seven others, but the number has grown as her business grew. She uses them as her models, jewelry artisans and fabricators. And her lawyer, obviously. It's been awhile since we talked, obviously, because I knew nothing about Brianna's children, nor hers either."
"Why would she need so many sex slaves?"
"I don't know. Obviously a lot of them are employed there. As a woman, she's not subject to the same biological restrictions as men are."
"I wonder how that works, being a submissive sex slave to your employer."
"I imagine it means you're a slave twenty-four hours a day; every day a slave day, no time off while your Mistress is at work or on a weekend."
"I'm getting wet just thinking of serving twenty-four hours a day," Lisa said.
"Me, too."
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“I thought you said you were done chasing me?” Gen mocked.
“I am done chasing you.”
Before she could formulate a witty remark, Matteo threw her down. She landed hard on her back atop his dining room table. She tried to sit up when she noticed what he was doing. His hands were working on his belt. It came free of his pants with a violent yank. She collapsed back on her elbows, her mouth gaping open at the display. His face was a mask of sheer determination, his eyes were a dark gold swimming with heat and desire. His hands wrapped around her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the table. He glided his fingers up her thighs and hooked several around the inside of her panties. His knuckles brushed her dripping sex.
“You’re soaking wet, Genevieve. Tell me, was it me that made you this way or him?” his voice told her to be careful with her answer. His knuckles slid down through her folds and she threw her head back as she moaned. “Weakness?”
“You…” she breathed.
Genevieve loses a bet she can’t afford to pay. In a compromise, she agrees to convince any man her opponent chooses to go home with her that night. What she doesn’t realize when her sister’s friend points out the brooding man sitting alone at the bar, is that man won’t be okay with just one night with her. No, Matteo Accardi, Don of one of the largest gangs in New York City doesn’t do one night stands. Not with her anyway.
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Then the truth came out.
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Behind her elegant smile lies a woman filled with secrets powerful enough to shake the whole family. She's a miraculous healer capable of curing the incurable poisons.
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Every accusation against Talia is forgiven. Every scheme against Camille is brushed aside. Even Matteo, the man who was supposed to be Camille’s fiancé—cannot let go of the woman he always believed belonged by his side.
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The CEO Above My Desk
“I know she does.”
“And what if she doesn’t want this kind of protection?”
“She will,” I say, my voice lowering slightly. “Because she needs a man who can give her the world.”
“And if the world burns?”
My hand tightens subtly at Violet’s waist.
“Then I’ll build her a new one,” I reply. “Even if I have to burn the old one down myself.”
I don’t work for Rowan Ashcroft.
I work beneath him.
From my desk, I decide who gets access to the most ruthless CEO in the city, and who never makes it past the lobby. I manage his time, his silence, his enemies. I keep his world running while my own quietly collapses under unpaid bills, a mother locked in rehab, and a brother who vanished without a goodbye.
Rowan Ashcroft is power wrapped in a tailored suit.
Cold. Untouchable. Merciless.
He doesn’t flirt. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t see people, only usefulness.
And for a long time, I was just useful.
Until he started watching.
A shift in his attention is subtle at first. A pause too long. A look that lingers. Orders that pull me closer instead of pushing me away. The man who stands above my desk begins to control more than my schedule, and I realize too late that being noticed by Rowan Ashcroft is far more dangerous than being ignored.
Because men like him don’t crave affection.
They crave possession.
This was supposed to be a job.
Not a test of my limits.
Not a slow, deliberate descent into his authority.
But if Rowan Ashcroft decides I belong under his desk, then so be it.
Survival has a price, and the bills don’t care how I pay them.












