THE WORD MASTER
Imagine it – a sexy BDSM Master talking to thousands of radio listeners every night… giving women an erotic and sensual insight into the world of domination and submission.
Jericho James is the man – the man with the power and the voice to make women around the country swoon and submit. But his personal life is haunted by a dark tragedy from his past, and a mysterious listener to his program who wants more from Jericho than he can possibly give.
Because there’s one thing he just won’t do… One line he simply will not cross.
Erotic BDSM written by a man from a man’s POV. Jason Luke is an Amazon Top Ten bestselling erotica author
I have taken some liberties with American broadcasting regulations for the sake of fiction. I hope readers will indulge my disregard – it made for a better story.
Author: Jason Luke
Jason Luke enjoyed several years involved in the BDSM lifestyle – but he is quick to point out that his experiences don’t qualify him as an expert, any more than knowing how to drive a car makes him a qualified mechanic. ‘Interview with a Master’ is a novel about how one man became a Master. The book is a work of fiction, but Jason has drawn heavily on encounters from his own real life. He won’t say which parts of the book are fictionalised, and which parts are auto-biographical.
A Bit of Chapter 1
The woman was staring at me with narrowed appraising eyes. She had her hands on her hips. She looked me up and down with a candid, intimate scrutiny, and then snatched at the cigarette between her lips. She exhaled a thin blue feather of smoke at the ceiling and pouted.
“Hello,” she said softly, her voice cultivated and her tone cool. “Is this your idea of dressing to impress?”
“No,” I said. I was wearing faded jeans and a jacket over a white t-shirt. “This is how I always dress. I don’t care whether you’re impressed or not.”
For one unholy instant the woman’s expression became ferocious, and her gaze snapped with an electric spark. She flashed a searching glare at the young lady who had brought me into the office, and then she smiled wryly at me and thrust out her chin.
“Okay,” she said, like smiling was an expression she didn’t use often. “Just so we got that straight.” She pointed a finger. “I don’t like ass-kissers anyhow.”
The woman went behind her desk and sprawled into a deep leather office chair with a sound like a weary sigh. She crushed the butt of the cigarette into an ashtray, and then made a haughty sweeping gesture with her hands. “Take a seat.”
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