Home Page    Log in / register    Newsletter    Authors

Search by Title, Author or words


Shopping Cart

No Cart Open


Books showing a sign means books can be sent direct to your Kindle from our download pages or Member Library -
if your Kindle has the Personal Document Service feature! Other eReader formats (epub, etc) are also available.



Angel Enslaved (Jay Aress)

Angel Enslaved by Jay Aress

Click here for larger cover


Add To Cart

More By This Author

Read reviews further down this page

    • Average 3.7 from 3 ratings

Fantasy slavery and extreme BDSM. Snatched by time travellers from another world, virginal Earth girl, Angel, finds herself enslaved by brutal Masters. Beaten and humiliated, she is trained as a pleasure slave and pony girl before being force marched through the desert to be sold at public auction.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 4 / 2018

No. words: 32600

Style: Male Dom - M/F, SciFi BDSM/Bondage

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle



Angel hoped that her life would change on her eighteenth birthday and it did, but not in the way she expected or wanted it to. A large party had been planned and in the late afternoon she laid out a new scarlet halter-neck dress that would expose her shoulders and arms and had a deep neckline. It was on the bed beside the matching satin thong knickers, suspender belt with black stockings and scarlet stiletto-heeled shoes with ankle straps. Steve and Angel had planned to announce their engagement during the celebrations and she had promised that after the party she would surrender her virginity to him.
It was time for some luxurious pampering to get ready. She slipped off her dressing-gown in the bathroom and shaved her legs to a delicious smoothness. They were long and shapely and she looked good in mini-skirt or shorts. She shaved her under arms, removed the hair from the sides of her labia and finally shaved round her pubic hair until she had made it heart-shaped, thinking that would make Steve happy.
She turned on the taps, poured in some bubble-bath and went to the mirror whilst the bath filled. She admitted to being rather narcissistic, though most men would admit that she was truly beautiful. She swayed, enjoying the movement of large firm breasts, pale with aureoles a full three inches wide, topped with fine pink nipples, playing with them until they were fully erect, standing almost an inch high. She brushed her long auburn hair over them and turned to look down her back and bottom, firm and boyish, turning back to admire the slender waist and flat belly. She worked out at least twice a week at a local gym and played tennis at weekends. It paid dividends. She lifted her hair above her head, looked into wide green eyes and thought ‘you lucky man, Steve, tonight all this will be yours, with Angel’s love.’
Angela was her parents’ name for her; all her friends called her Angel. She had enjoyed the company of men and, from the age of fourteen, had been followed by a devoted crowd of admirers. She admitted to herself that she took advantage of them, but when she met Steve, dark and tall and muscular, all the others faded away. He was dominant, but gentle and patient. Angel often caught him wearing a secret smile, but he refused to say what he was smiling about, no matter how much she nagged him.
The mirror had started to mist up, giving her image a blurred romantic look, like certain photographers create to give a sense of mystery. She traced a heart in the condensation, drawing an arrow through the centre together with an A and S. After tying her hair up, she got into the bath and soaped herself, running her hands over breasts and shoulders, bringing the nipples to erection again, stroking down the long, slender neck. She cupped her breasts and lifted them, pushing them together to create a nice cleavage, then stroked the rigid tips with her thumbs, beginning to pant as her heart beat faster. After a few minutes she moved her hands down her tummy to the sensitive intimacies of the sex lips and clitoris. Tonight Steve would give her so much pleasure. As she thought that, she came to a long, shuddering climax, then finished bathing.
That was the point at which it all went pear-shaped. As she stood up in the bath, still covered with suds, a strong bare arm wrapped itself around her waist and a large hand covered her mouth, stifling a cry of shock and fear. She was in the arms of a large, powerful man and all struggles were useless. But the shock was - how could this man appear from a solid wall? His large booted feet were in the water and, as he lifted her out of the bath, she saw a second man emerging from a large square opening in her wall. It was surely a dream, a vision – walls did not suddenly dissolve into spaces through which large men could walk, walls were solid things, walls were indestructible. She struggled frantically, but was unable to free herself from the man’s powerful grip. The second man lifted her feet and she was carried into the bedroom.
It wasn’t a dream. The men ripped off the bed covers, throwing the party clothes on the floor and Angel was tossed face up on the bed. Two more men came in, followed by a beautiful naked Oriental girl who lay on the floor, on her stomach, arms outstretched and legs widespread. The third man forced a rubber ball into Angel’s mouth, tied it behind her neck and then helped the first two to tie her hands and feet to the four corners of the bed. The pillows were pushed under her lower back, lifting her hips in invitation. She was shocked, helpless, very scared and completely bemused. Where had they come from? Who was the girl and why was she lying down in that manner?
The fourth man was better dressed than the others, but not in a style Angel recognised. It seemed to her as though he had stepped out of a Bible picture, all flowing robes and turban, despite the fact that he was obviously European. His robe was made of silk, or some synthetic material resembling silk, with gold thread running richly through a purple design of butterflies. The other three wore baggy pants and sleeveless, open black leather waistcoats, like Turkish harem guards. But these men were not eunuchs, as they rapidly proved by removing their boots and pants and Revealing All in partial erection to her startled gaze. She started to fight against her bonds again, as it seemed obvious that rape was the next thing on the agenda, but she had been well tied and could not get free.
She guessed that the wealthy looking man was the leader. He drew a sheet of paper from his pocket and started to read from it in a language she did not recognise. When he finished, he produced a pen and leaned on her dressing table to sign it. Two of the other men also signed. The leader then held up a steel collar and locked it around Angel’s neck: it fitted snugly. Then he drew a design like an inverted Y, in what looked like wax on her belly, just below the navel. The leader smiled sardonically at her ineffectual struggles and waved a hand in invitation to the three almost nude, very well-endowed men. One was holding a wooden cup out of which came a pair of dice onto her bare stomach. They were gambling for her! She was torn between outrage and sheer terror, feeling tears spring to her eyes and a desperate longing for Steve to charge in and throw these intruders out. Who were these men, anyway? How had they got into her room so easily?
One man shouted in jubilation, he seemed to have won first place. Without finesse he climbed on top of Angel and thrust two thick fingers into her sex. A large ring on his third finger rubbed against her sphincter as his thumb sought out the clitoris and rubbed it. Although she mentally hated this treatment, she had recently aroused herself and after a few minutes of manipulation her body betrayed her. He gave a cry of elation as he felt his fingers go wet and immediately replaced them with his erect manhood, easing it in slowly at first and then suddenly thrusting in. With a sob Angel felt her hymen tear and screamed her pain and disgust through the gag but only a groan escaped. He thrust vigorously in and out, handling her tender breasts roughly, squeezing and twisting them to make her groan again, to his apparent delight. His thrusts got faster and faster until he came, flooding her with his seed.
Angel was in total despair. Her virginity, which she had promised to the man she loved, was gone, stolen violently by a stranger in her own bed. She was tied down, sex lifted invitingly and there were three other men looking on, waiting their turn. As soon as the first man got off, using her hair to clean himself, the second man mounted. He wasted no time with foreplay and was inside in seconds, pounding away for less than a minute before coming. The third man took his time, moving slowly in and out, handling every part of her body, stroking and pinching and probing, even pushing a finger into her bottom, to her shame. The audience laughed when they saw her blush at this cruel intrusion.
Fear, pain, disgust and the strange feeling that this was not really happening, that it really was all a terrible nightmare from which she would suddenly wake, probably in cold bath water, fought for precedence in her overloaded mind. The thought kept coming up that if she could only speak to them, the spell would be broken, but so far they had not said a single word she understood, or even recognised as being part of any known language on Earth.
Eventually she started to respond to his expert handling, moving to his rhythm and was close to a climax when he came and roughly pulled himself out, both hurting and denying her pleasure. She lay on her bed, gasping, the men looking down on a naked, sweat-covered body. Her shoulders were aching with her arms being tied above her head, her jaw ached from the cruel ball gag, her sex burned with the savage invasion it had endured. And there was still one man left.
Angel thankfully realised that the richly dressed man seemed uninterested in her body. He barked an order in the same strange language. The Oriental girl jumped to her feet and started looking round the room. She quickly found what she wanted, a large suitcase kept on top of the wardrobe. She opened the wardrobe and took out Angel’s favourite clothes. As she packed the suitcase the men laughed and joked across the bed and the nude body.
Eventually they released the bonds and gag. Two of the men hoisted her up onto their shoulders and carried her into the bathroom. The square opening in the wall beyond the bath was still there and it seemed that they were going to carry her through it. Angel decided she wasn’t going without a struggle and kicked out. They quelled the small revolt by the simple expedient of dunking her head under the bath water. She came up spluttering and breathless. They lowered her back under the water a second time, for a longer period. When they brought her up the second time she was choking and broken and allowed herself to be carried into a small, dimly lit room beyond the portal. The men placed her on the floor, on her belly, her head near the portal, pulled her hands behind her back and handcuffed them there. Angel saw the Oriental girl walk into the bathroom and hand the suitcase to one of the men. She then drained the bathtub, cleaned it and mopped the floor dry with a towel. She passed the towel to the men, returned to the bedroom and brought back the bed sheets which were stained with virginal blood.
She returned to the bedroom and could be heard opening the chest of drawers, no doubt taking out clean sheets to make the bed. In a very short time the girl climbed into the portal and knelt at the feet of the leader, knees apart, wrists crossed behind her back. She kept her spine straight and bowed her head submissively. Then everyone waited, the men making quiet conversation in that strange, slightly guttural language. After about ten minutes the doorbell rang: Angel knew it would be Steve, calling to take her to the party. One of the men lifted her head up by her hair so she could see the spotless bathroom and very tidy bedroom.
The leader suddenly spoke to her in English, startling her. “Take your last look at your former world, slave!”
That simple sentence, the first one addressed to her since she had been seized, filled her with dread. Her head was held up until the doorbell rang for the third time, then the portal closed and her head was dropped. Her mind was so filled with fear that she could not think how she could get free from her captors.
It would not be long before she discovered that escape was impossible.
There was a tapping sound, like a computer keyboard and within moments the portal re-opened. Angel was lifted out, not into her bathroom but into a large, white tiled room.
“This is your new world, slave,” said the leader.
“I don’t understand,” she protested, fiery despite her terrifying experiences so far. “There’s no slavery these days, you will never get away with this! And I’m not a slave!”
He frowned at her and she cowered back, really afraid of the burning stare.
“Let me explain things to you, Earth person. You have been a slave since your enslavement papers were signed and the slave collar was locked on your pretty little neck. You were conveyed here by a time machine to a period called the Lower Palaeozoic, just before life started to drag itself out of the sea. The land was a total desert when I first came here and it took over seven hundred years of hard toil to establish the Earth to a state where it is self-sustaining. Even today there are vast areas of the land which are desert. Slave-girls have been brought here for almost a thousand years, to do the work and serve the Masters with their pretty bodies. In a few minutes you will receive your injections which will render you immortal, then you will be broken to slavery and then trained to your Master’s requirements. Yes, you already have a Master, but he has decided to keep his identity from you for the time being.
“We only take teenagers between the ages of sixteen and nineteen, while their skin is still pure and soft. We can halt their ageing straight away, or allow them to grow a little older, but not beyond their nineteenth birthdays. Once their ageing has been stopped, they will remain young and beautiful forever. As a slave you will be trained to obey and give pleasure to your Masters and Mistresses and if you are not found pleasing you will be punished severely and put to harder, less pleasant tasks, toiling in the fields or down the mines.”
She was almost incapable of absorbing the words. How many women had this organisation enslaved? She had a good imagination, but found the idea of a time machine difficult to comprehend and the idea of modern white slavery even harder to take on board.
“You will never break me to slavery!”
“You little fool, do you not think we know our business?”
He spoke to his men who grabbed hold of her, dragged her into a side room and tied her over a trestle. A man in a white coat placed a metal tray where she could see the contents, six large hypodermic syringes. Angel fought the bonds, again with no success; the men knew how to tie girls down. She screamed and shouted as slowly and painfully the contents of the syringes was injected into her cheeks, three on each side. She was then left in darkness, still tied to the trestle for what seemed like a long time.
When the men returned Angel was feeling very ill and was sweating profusely. The feeling of illness and sickness had overtaken the fears for the future, the longing for the past. All she was aware of was the burning fever, no doubt caused by the injections. Which one of those had been a mind-altering drug, she vaguely wondered as she was put in a cold bath. Ice was added at intervals to cool her body. Under normal circumstances she would have suffered hypothermia, now she was so hot she actually melted the ice.


This turned out to be a really good Gorean fantasy. It starts fairly plainly with the Protagonist Angel kidnapped and quickly abused, but it gradually reveals a very sadistic world. The first chapter is the weakest. The story is just a journey through the world. Angel isn't a particularly special slave, which is refreshing. We don't learn much about her home life until 75% of the way through the story. There is repetition of abuse, as is typical for novels of this sort, but the author introduces new ideas and torments regularly. If you like the genre, you'll like this. 4 out of 5 (NF)

Author Information

This author's series of Angel books was inspired by the famous Gor books.


Publisher Information

Publishers of non-adult and adult fiction. Authors, experienced and new are welcome. We have a number of different sites for various genres, including specialist sites for Romance (www.a1romancestories.com, our non-adult and erotica site at www.fiction4all.com and a number of adult sites based around our main site at www.a1adultebooks.com

 Contact Us    Terms and Conditions    Protection Policy    Privacy Policy    Refund Policy   

This Site Owned By Fiction4All - Copyright Ó 2013