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    Enforcer
    Enforcer
    Enforcer
    Ebook274 pages7 hours

    Enforcer

    By Linzi Basset

    ()

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    About this ebook

    He learned to hate and now, he thrives on the darkness inside him. To him, it's all about revenge, while the beast inside him revels in his sadistic nature. This is NOT a romance. He doesn't redeem himself and there is NO happy ending. If you expect either of those, this book isn't for you.

    He's a bastard. Beyond redemption.
    He knows it.
    And he doesn't care.

    They love him. Because he reforms their insubordinate subs and slaves.
    He knows it.
    And he doesn't care.

    They fear him. The women he 'shows' the error of their ways.
    He knows it.
    And he doesn't care

    There used to be a time that he cared. Where he loved and was loved. Where he used tenderness and care to guide and protect. Until he learned to hate.

    Five years is a long time for hatred to fester.
    He knows it.
    And he doesn't care.

    She will come to hate him.
    He knows it.
    And he doesn't care.

    He only has one goal.
    For her new Master to realize he needs help to reform his slave.
    He's been waiting patiently.

    Patience is a virtue. His has paid off.
    Now, he can finally show her the error of her ways.

    He knows he can.
    Because he is ...

    The Enforcer

    Editor's Note: Don't get comfortable. Don't relax. Breathe in. Breathe out. And prepare to have your brain and your loins twisted into knots as the Enforcer breaks obstinate slaves. You will cringe, you will wince, your body will tense. You might grind your teeth, your insides will clench, your nipples will pucker, and you might even come ... as you secretly wish HE could break you too ...

    Author's Note: Although there is a sensual and emotive suspense story entwined, which includes a theme of power exchange between Doms/Masters and submissives/slaves, this book is very dark and is more than BDSM, it goes beyond that. Remember that it is a work of fiction and please take heed of the Author’s warning at the beginning of the book.
    Please proceed with caution and If this is offensive to you, please do not read it.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLinzi Basset
    Release dateSep 19, 2020
    ISBN9781005266325
    Enforcer
    Author

    Linzi Basset

    “Isn’t it a universal truth that it’s our singular experiences and passion, for whatever thing or things, which molds us all into the individuals we become? Whether it's hidden in the depths of our soul or exposed for all to see?” Linzi Basset is a South African born animal rights supporter with a poet’s heart, and she is also a bestselling fiction writer of suspense filled romance erotica books; who as the latter, refuses to be bound to any one sub-genre. She prefers instead to stretch herself as a storyteller which has resulted in her researching and writing historical and even paranormal themed works. Her initial offering: Club Alpha Cove, a BDSM club suspense series released back in 2015, reached Amazon’s Bestseller list, and she has been on those lists ever since. Labelling her as prolific is a gross understatement as just a few short years later she has now been published forty-one times; a total which fails to take into account the three other published works of her alter ego: Isabel James who co-authors—nor does it include the five additional new works marked for imminent release. “I write from the inside out. My stories are both inside me and a part of me so it can be either pleasurable to release them or painful to carve them out. I live every moment of every story I write. So, if you're looking for spicy and suspenseful, I'm your girl... woman... writer... you know what I mean!" Linzi believes that by telling stories in her own voice, she can better share with her readers the essence of her being: her passionate nature; her motivations; and her wildest fantasies. She feels every touch as she writes, every kiss, every harsh word uttered, and this to her is the key to a never-ending love of writing. Ultimately, all books by Linzi Basset are about passion. To her, passion is the driving force of all emotion; whether it be lust, desire, hate, trust, or love. This is the underlying message contained in her books. Her advice: “Believe in the passions driving your desires; live them; enjoy them; and allow them to bring you happiness.” Follow Linzi everywhere: https://linktr.ee/LinziBasset

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      Book preview

      Enforcer - Linzi Basset

      Acknowledgements

      As an author, I have so much to be grateful for. Most of all to all my loyal fans and readers, if not for your continued support I wouldn’t be able to pursue my biggest passion in life ... write!

      My editor, Kristen Breanne, who with this book, had to grind on her teeth and cringe from beginning to end ... and for pointing out how fixated I was with the word raw.

      My proofreaders and ARC team, as always, you ladies rock. A warm welcome to all my new ARC readers, who applied copiously for this very dark story. I hope we’ll walk a long road together.

      I want to express my undying gratitude to the very special people in my life who are always there to support me. My street team who work so hard to help spread the word, my virtual PA, Kemberlee Snelling, my very own wonder woman! You have become my pillar, Kem and I can’t thank you enough.

      Lastly but the most important, James Calderaro, my daily muse, my strength and inspiration. Honey, you have become my guiding light. You believe in me, even when at times I doubt myself. Without your encouragement, understanding and love, I would be lost.

      Author’s Note & Blurb

      Dear Reader,

      Please remember that this is a work of fiction. EnForcer is a dark novel in A Dark Desire series of standalone titles. This book is very dark, and not a normal BDSM story, it goes far beyond that. Although there is a sensual and emotive story entwined, which includes a theme of power exchange between Doms/Masters and submissives/slaves, the powerful Master reformer trains ruthlessly with no boundaries.

      If this is offensive to you, please do not read it.

      He's a bastard. Beyond redemption.

      He knows it.

      And he doesn't care.

      They love him. Because he reforms their insubordinate subs and slaves.

      He knows it.

      And he doesn't care.

      They fear him. The women he 'shows' the error of their ways.

      He knows it.

      And he doesn't care.

      There used to be a time that he cared. Where he loved and was loved. Where he used tenderness and care to guide and protect. Until he learned to hate.

      Five years is a long time for hatred to fester.

      He knows it.

      And he doesn't care.

      She will come to hate him.

      He knows it.

      And he doesn't care.

      He only has one goal.

      For her new Master to realize he needs help to reform his slave.

      He's been waiting patiently.

      Patience is a virtue. His has paid off. Now, he can finally show her the error of her ways.

      He knows he can.

      Because he is ...

      The Enforcer

      Editor's Note: Don't get comfortable. Don't relax. Breathe in. Breathe out. And prepare to have your brain and your loins twisted into knots as the Enforcer breaks obstinate slaves. You will cringe, you will wince, your body will tense. You might grind your teeth, your insides will clench, your nipples will pucker, and you might even come ... as you secretly wish HE could break you too ...

      I trust you will enjoy this story.

      Warm regards,

      Linzi Basset

      ––––––––

      Chapter One

      AUTHOR WARNING: Please remember that this is a work of fiction. EnForcer is a dark novel in A Dark Desire series of standalone titles. This book is very dark, and not a normal BDSM story, it goes way beyond that. Although there is a sensual and emotive story entwined which includes a theme of power exchange between Doms/Masters and submissives /slaves, the powerful Master reformer trains ruthlessly with no boundaries.

      You have been given ample warning that the content within is not your average BDSM novel. Proceed with caution, and please do not give a negative review if your concern is based solely on the dark content.

      I warned you, slave, yet you continue to defy me. You leave me no choice.

      Keira Cox had to dig deep to remain in the submissive position, Nadu, and keep her eyes lowered. Her hands itched to curl into fists, the muscles in her legs twitched with the desire to jump up.

      I’m sorry, my Master. You know I always try—

      Silence!

      She bit back the sharp retort that sprang to her lips. She was already shit deep in trouble; one more word would only expound it. She’d come to know Marcus Delaware well over the past three years. She suppressed a heavy sigh of regret. She should never have agreed to change from their two-year Dom/sub relationship to that of Master/slave. She didn’t have the nature of a slave; she was too willful and self-reliant.

      You will go and take a hot bath. You’re a disrespectful slut, but I’ll be damned if you humiliate me further by arriving there with the stench of a used whore.

      Keira cringed, and this time she could taste the coppery taste of blood in her mouth as her teeth nipped the inside of her cheek. She had gotten used to dried semen and his cum smell all over her. He was the one who demanded she walk around the entire day with his filth all over her body and now he had the audacity to put the blame on her shoulders!

      Fucking asshole. Your day will come, you motherfucker. See if it doesn’t!

      She swallowed hard on the bitter taste of regret. It always came too late and she knew it all too well. Sometimes she wished ...

      Stop it, Keira. You made your choices. Fucked up ones and now you have to pay the price.

      She wanted to scream at her mind that she had paid. Over and over. It just never seemed to stop. At what point would the universe decide she’d paid her dues? That enough was enough and cut her some slack.

      God knows, I can’t take much more of this.

      His words penetrated. Her back turned ramrod straight. He hadn’t mentioned earlier that they were going to the club tonight. He was co-owner of Club Rouge, an exclusive BDSM club that catered to all kinds of kink. From light to the extreme. There were no boundaries on what was allowed and how far a scene was taken. Worse, were the loose rules about following the core of the BDSM lifestyle, safe, sane and consensual, especially where slave subs were concerned. She had known it, she had seen how he treated slaves and she still said yes to become his.

      What other choice did I have? I’m stuck in this hellhole. I can only pray it comes to—

      Crack!

      Keira cried out as his hand unexpectedly connected with her cheek. Tears immediately sprang to her eyes at the pain exploding inside her brain. A sob managed to escape her lips, no matter how hard she tried to contain it.

      Quiet, slut!

      Keira whimpered as he caught her hair in his fist and yanked back her head. She knew better than to use her hands to alleviate the pain. She kept her eyes lowered, knowing that to dare look at him without permission would just make matters worse.

      What did you forget, you useless whore? he sneered next to her ear, his fingers fisted, drawing a scream of pain from her. It felt like he was tearing out her hair roots one by one from her scalp.

      I’m sorry, Master. Please. I know I should pay attention. She kept her voice pleading, teary while inside she simmered, her fiery nature clawing to come to the surface. To give him a quick side palm jab straight into his esophagus, to watch him gag as he battled to breathe.

      Yes, you should, but soon, I’ll have the perfect slave. He shook her head, sneering as she cried out in pain. Look at me.

      Her eyes lifted. His gaze glimmered with enjoyment as he watched the flashes of pain in hers. As a Dom, he had always been caring. She had been naive to believe he’d be the same as her Master. The moment she agreed to become his slave, he had changed, treating her abominably, so much so that at times she felt like a dog.

      I can’t help but wonder why we’re going to the club. You’ve never allowed me—

      Since when do I need to explain my actions to you, slave? He snorted as he released her hair and stepped back. Position, he snapped, waiting until Keira lowered her eyes. Tonight is a special occasion, but rest assured, it’ll be the only time you’ll set foot in the club on a Monday.

      Club Rouge was his pride and joy. He had very strict rules as to which days she was allowed to accompany him. Since she had become his permanent live-in slave, he had never taken her to the club on Mondays, Thursdays or Fridays. Why, she had no idea but she had been speculating about it a lot. She chewed on the inside of her lip and tilted her head just a fraction to peek at him through her lashes. He stood glaring at her; his nose scrunched in disgust.

      She felt tears of despair well up behind her eyes. What had happened to her over the past couple of years? She’d always enjoyed submission. In fact, she had worn the title with pride. She had been sassy, but at the same time, to please her Dom had given her so much joy and satisfaction. Disappointing him had never been an option and she used to hate the times that she did.

      But that was before. When she was still with—

      No! Don’t think about him. You know what it does to you. He’s gone. Out of your life for good. God, everything had become such a clusterfuck. Not like I envisioned it at all.

      What do you mean, my Master? she lilted softly, doing her best to right the wrong, which with Marcus seemed to be all she ever did.

      You need an attitude adjustment and I found the perfect solution.

      Keira felt a cold chill chase the fear down her spine. She hated being a slave, but at the same time, she was terrified of being cast out, irrespective of the reason she remained stuck to him like glue. That would mean epic failure and she couldn’t do that. Regardless of the repercussions it would have on her career, it would mean she failed her Dom ... a second time.

      M-Master E.

      The voice was so soft that Doran Scott had no idea how Cy Douglas heard it where he stood on the other side of the bar, yet his head turned toward the timid sub behind Doran.

      His cerulean blue eyes were striking against the black face mask he wore, similar to a ski mask that covered his entire face but made with soft cotton material. He never arrived at the club without it. Not that Doran blamed him. If the dark side of his nature became public knowledge, the success of the welfare organizations he’d established and funded over the years would be compromised.

      Doran had been surprised when Cy had approached him for assistance to make an anonymous offer to buy shares in the exclusive BDSM Club Rouge four years ago, with the stipulation that he would play an active role in managing the club, but his true identity would never be disclosed. He’d laughed at first and quickly sobered when his best friend had turned a glacial look his way. Sometimes, even he was scared of the man he’d become. No wonder the sub stood trembling like a leaf as she awaited his attention.

      Is there a problem? Cy clipped in his usual deep, grating voice.

      I ... yes, Sir. Master Kieran requires your assistance with his slave. She lowered her eyes as his gaze turned dark.

      The same slave who begged him to become her Master a month ago. Delilah, right?

      Yes, Sir. She’s blatantly insubordinate and belittled him in front of everyone in the dungeon.

      Doran could hear the hesitation in the sub’s voice. It was obvious that she would much rather be anywhere else than under the scrutiny of the one man every sub in this club feared. Or rather, every sub in the region feared.

      He didn’t blame them. Cy was dead inside. Hate had festered for years until there was nothing left, except an empty void that he filled by using his skill to reform submissives and slaves. Something he was so good at, that he was approached by Doms and Masters from all over the States who were readily prepared to pay top dollar for his services. He had a one-hundred percent success rate, which he achieved because he didn’t care about feelings to and from anyone. When they came to him, it was with the understanding that his word was law—no boundaries, only submission to his domination.

      A law that had earned him the name ... Enforcer.

      Strangely enough, it also gained him the respect of all the women he handled and turned into perfect submissives or slaves. Doran sometimes wondered if it was because they were too scared they’d have to go back.

      Cy brusquely informed the bartender he’d be on his own as he walked around the counter. He never played at the club. Doran frowned. For that matter, he couldn’t recall that he’d ever seen Cy scene with anyone since his sub of four years, first, openly cuckolded him before she broke up with him. Publicly, in a humiliating scene at the club they were frequenting at the time. For a proud man and powerful Dom such as Cy, it had been a blow to his pride and ego. He hadn’t said a word, just watched her with an expression that turned stoic as his eyes became darker, until the light of his soul dimmed ... permanently. At that moment, the darkness inside him had awakened a beastly demon that strived to do only one thing. Control ... over all aspects of his life and emotions. Cy had not been the same man since.

      Let’s go, sub. Cy glanced at Doran, I’ll be right back.

      I think I’ll just saunter along. Doran tipped the glass to his lips and finished the single malt whiskey. It’s about time I witnessed what makes the subs shake in their boots when you appear in a room.

      Cy snorted but didn’t respond. Doran had to lengthen his strides to keep up with him as he pushed open the heavy wood door leading into the dungeon. Immediately, the soothing Grecian music from the big open room was overpowered by the heavy rock of Van Halen in the background.

      It was the perfect companion to the sound of slashing floggers, cracking whips and the screams of pain and pleasure that filled the acoustics of the vast room. It had the look and feel of a medieval castle, with stone-faced rock wall cladding and huge arches that gave it the look and feel of a dungeon. The clanking of chains added to the authenticity of the place. The dim lighting came from the light sconce fixtures against the walls. Here and there, spotlights shone brightly on a scene where whips and floggers were in play.

      Doran’s attention was drawn to the ruckus in the far corner where a group of people were avidly watching the disrespectful slave spit at her Master.

      Well, she definitely has a burr up her ass, Doran said as they approached, watching the glistening streak of spittle project toward the man who was doing his best to remain calm. An expression of relief crossed his face as he noticed Cy behind his slave. He wiped the saliva from his cheek with an irritated huff. Master Kieran was known as a gentle Dom, preferring to use benevolent persuasion to control the subs he scened with. It was evident to Doran that this one was itching for something different, which posed the question why she begged him to take her as his slave while she acted anything but subservient.

      I told you, that’s not what I want. Don’t you fucking listen? The woman’s shrill voice continued. Master Kieran’s cheeks turned red.

      It seems you forget your place, Cy’s voice could freeze over the Sahara Desert. The slave pivoted on her heel, ready to attack, only to stumble back in the wake of the dark warning that flashed in his eyes. She reached for Master Kieran but before she could move to cower behind him, she was on her toes, gasping for breath as Cy’s large hand wrapped around her throat and squeezed. She clawed at his hands as his fingers tightened. Her eyes bulged as her airway was slowly cut off.

      Did I give you permission to touch me? The words snapped out of Cy’s mouth like the crack of a whip against a stone wall. Her hands fell away, her whimpers the only sound in the sudden silence of the room. It seemed that even the music hesitated to encroach on the scene unraveling as the thumping rock rhythm became nothing more than a whisper in the background.

      Please, Delilah choked out.

      Please? You dare say that word to me after what I just witnessed? He stared at her down his nose. Master Kieran, what do you expect from me? Cy asked through tight lips, his disapproving gaze kept his captive’s one locked as tight as his hand around her throat. Her eyelids fluttered but she instinctively knew it would be a mistake to look away.

      In truth, I’m not sure I want to bother with her. First, she begged me to take her as a slave and the moment I do, she started acting up. I don’t have the patience to deal with a brat. It’s not in my nature or the kind of slave I desire.

      Is that what you want from me? To end your Master-slave agreement with her?

      No! Please, Master Kieran, don’t—

      Cy cut off her protest with his fingers tightening a fraction more. She choked with tears spilling down her cheeks as she realized that she had pushed her Master too far.

      Quiet. The word carried to the high rafters of the dungeon and slammed back to chastise the sub with acerbic reproach.

      Doran had been a Dominant for the majority of his adult life, but he wasn’t a sadist. Irrespective of everything he’d heard about Cy as the Enforcer, he’d never thought his friend was either. Until this moment.

      The way his body relaxed at the same time his gaze sharpened with pleasure as he watched the woman struggling to breathe, her toes barely touching the floor—all proof that he enjoyed the power he had over her.

      With one major difference. Cy was unmoved. He didn’t portray the arousal a sadist usually found in torturing a sub. Now Doran understood why he was so good at what he did. He thrived on the power he exerted, the fear it generated, while his actions were methodical, purposeful, not one look or move was wasted or inconsequential. He wanted a reaction and got it ... every time.

      Which was unfortunate for the women.

      Chapter Two

      Cy Douglas had no regrets in life. Not anymore. The times he’d questioned his motives were long gone—when he had felt raw, like there was no skin over his pain and the wind made it bleed. It had become a long-forgotten memory.

      Now, he enjoyed every minute he allowed the beast inside him to roam free, feeding its inherent desire to exert ultimate and boundless domination. That he elicited fear at the same time didn’t bother him one iota.

      He had stopped caring long ago. He was completely fucked up and didn’t give a shit what anyone thought of him or his methods.

      Hate had colored his soul. It had spread throughout his entire system, shutting down all other feelings, and had become central to life and the intent of him as a person. The object of his hatred still continued to fester but didn’t dominate his thoughts, except late at night once in a while where he allowed the hostility to tyrannize his mind as a wave of ill thoughts returned with a vengeance.

      His life had purpose now. He was driven by passion that resided in his soul to succeed in every aspect of his existence. He had learned very quickly to bury his hate but not before it had colored his heart black. It had become a stigma in his mind, his soul. He’d known he should’ve fought against it, but he chose not to. He wanted the hatred to claim possession, to freeze any desire for love. He’d allowed it to roam unchecked, to fester and take over until it had completely poisoned his soul.

      It was the perfect hollow encasement for the man he had become ... the Enforcer.

      He felt the thrill of power as he stared at the cowering sub in front of him. His body was relaxed. He knew he was feared but it didn’t sway him. His control over submissives was about more than Domination. It was complete possession of their bodies and minds for the time he offered his attention, his disappointment, and his wrath until he had squeezed every drop of defiance from them. When they cowered at his feet, begging forgiveness while their tortured eyes showed their capitulation, at times even admiration and love, that was when the beastly demon inside him stirred to life. It was

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