Sunday, October 28, 2012

I WANT THAT ONE by Paige Roberts

I WANT THAT ONE by Paige Roberts

Lady Jane wants Will, for her slave, and she'll pay a high price to get him. Will dreams of a life under Jane's spike heels, but in the future city-state of New York, it's illegal to enslave a free man. Jane, once a notorious hacker, now a network security consultant, isn't used to letting a little thing like the law keep her from getting what she wants.

When a bound and naked Will is delivered to her kitchen door, she takes great pleasure in using leather cat and cuffs and cruel penetrating sex games to tame him. But Will must give up everything to prove his loyalty to her before he can take his rightful place forever kneeling at her perfect feet.

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An Excerpt from: I Want That One

Copyright © 2007/2012 Paige Roberts
All rights reserved, Freya's Bower.



By reading this excerpt, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are younger than 18 years old, you must exit this site at once.


“I want that one,” Lady Jane said.

Armande was the owner of the most exclusive full service salon in the city-state of New York. In the reconstruction after the great collapse, the new noble class demanded services befitting their status. Sharp entrepreneurs like Armande created salons to fill those demands. A woman could get everything from a pleasure slave to a manicure to a new hat in Armande’s salon, if she was willing to pay top dollar for all three.

“But, my dear Lady Jane,” Armande said, “Will is not merchandise. He is my employee.”

“I know Will’s not a slave, but I want him. Every time I come in, his pretty eyes watch me. And when he fits me for a new pair of shoes, his impertinent hands touch my feet much more than is proper.” The lady watched the tall, slender, dark-haired man with a neatly trimmed goatee as he served drinks to a small group of ladies. His wry comments made them laugh and flutter, and he acknowledged their appreciation with a shy smile.

“Please forgive any small improprieties on his part. I’ll have him fired if you wish, but making him a slave…” The pretentious man with a French accent from Brooklyn shook his head. “Even if he were for sale, he’s not pleasure slave material. Wouldn’t you rather have that one? He is a handsome specimen, non?” Armande gestured to a man chained to a pedestal as living art, dressed only in a collar and a dazzling smile.

“Far too full of himself. Let some woman who wants to have something decorative on her arm for social functions buy him and spoil him rotten. I want your clerk and I will pay handsomely for him.”

“It is illegal to make a free citizen a slave, milady.” Armande grinned slyly. “A respectable slave dealer like myself would…”

Lady Jane wrote a figure down. It was twice the asking price of the slave with the bright smile.
Armande’s greedy eyes widened. “Of course, I would certainly be willing to go that extra mile for a client of your caliber.”

Lady Jane smiled. “I want him delivered tonight.” She turned her back on Armande, dismissing him.

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