The Leather Mask – ebook

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When the mys­terious mistress Mrs. Smith lures pretty, young Dawn Flynn into the BDSM club the Velvet Glove, the unsuspecting novice walks in on a severe punishment session, and she can’t shake the image. Afterwards, her imagination is filled with extreme SM fantasies; and after a long weekend, she impulsively quits her job and joins the Velvet Glove, exactly as Mrs. Smith planned. With hopes of finding the right Dominant partner, Dawn submits to a rigorous training program. Agreeing to the club rules, she’s ‘forced’ into a lesbian encounter, is made subservient to the butler Wilson and his rod of discipline, and becomes the entertainment at a social event. During her training she lives in a small bare room and is subjected to a number of masters—male and female, who teach her about the total surrender required of her new lifestyle.

Description

The Leather Mask by Alexander Kelly

When the mys­terious mistress Mrs. Smith lures pretty, young Dawn Flynn into the BDSM club the Velvet Glove, the unsuspecting novice walks in on a severe punishment session, and she can’t shake the image. Afterwards, her imagination is filled with extreme SM fantasies; and after a long weekend, she impulsively quits her job and joins the Velvet Glove, exactly as Mrs. Smith planned. With hopes of finding the right Dominant partner, Dawn submits to a rigorous training program. Agreeing to the club rules, she’s ‘forced’ into a lesbian encounter, is made subservient to the butler Wilson and his rod of discipline, and becomes the entertainment at a social event. During her training she lives in a small bare room and is subjected to a number of masters—male and female, who teach her about the total surrender required of her new lifestyle.

But when an eager Dawn hears of the itinerant underground SM club, the “Leather Mask”, and wants to know more, Mrs. Smith flatly refuses to address her questions. She later learns through her Mistress’s client, Janelle, that the Leather Mask is currently open in a nearby location and she is enticed to join her. Once there, Dawn submits to an anonymous Dom in a rough scene that nearly breaks her. The depths of her submission are as disturbing as they are thrilling. On hearing of Dawn’s subterfuge, the furious Mrs. Smith sends her to the Solitude Tank, where suspension and sensory deprivation demand that this young sub confront her inner demons.

As Dawn’s story unfolds, so does that of the enigmatic Mrs. Smith. The woman has her own reasons for enticing Dawn into the world of SM, ones that could have far reaching consequences for Dawn and seriously hamper her own desire to have the D/s relationship she so desires.

This intriguing and suspenseful tale combines both the male and female domination of the submissive female. A contemporary tale, graphic content includes dungeon scenes, tight bondage, exotic devices, Victorian costumes and slave training. Consensual.

Additional information

Artist Credit

Cover Art © www.powershotz.com

ISBN

9781936173624

Publish Date

01/21/2009

Word Count

83274

Page Count

142

Excerpt

It wasn’t far from the sandwich shop at the edge of the village on West 14th to The Velvet Glove, a converted three story brownstone just a stone’s throw from Bleeker. It’s also where I lived, since my work was my life, yet for two hours everyday I took a break from such, to walk the village, enjoy the sun like on this fine, spring day, and possibly find new women clients. It wasn’t as hard as you might think, you just had to know what to look for, then give them a little test.
Right now Miss Dawn Flynn was passing with flying colors. Even on the busy streets, before we entered the village proper, I could easily pick out her staccato, high heel steps amongst all the other pedestrians. I struggled to keep my excitement under control, not show any outward sign, but could do nothing about the growing warmth between my legs. Of course I found her attractive but long ago I had been trained to manifest any anticipation, of any kind, in my…in my snatch. There, I said it. Not a very ladylike term. In fact, down right crude. But sometimes crude must serve. I repeated it softly in time with my steps. Snatch, snatch, snatch, snatch. Oh, I felt so delightfully dirty at my secret mantra and that my small clothes were now almost soaked I almost forgot about Miss Dawn Flynn, or that we had suddenly arrived at our destination. But I had completely forgotten about Emma, and her errand.
I know I shouldn’t have, I should have known it might have been too much for Miss Dawn Flynn to take in all at once, but the thrill at having found her, and that she so willingly followed orders, yet still retained a streak of independence, and what it could possibly mean in the long run, muddled my own thoughts. And that nearly proved disastrous.
With hardly a glance around, I trod up the familiar steps and blew through the vestibule. Miss Flynn followed right behind, but while I continued a few paces inside, she halted just inside the inner door with a gasp.
Off to our right in the parlor, spread-eagled in the air, hung the punished trainee; I believe her name was Judith. A short, curvy thing, with big eyes and a small mouth, her upturned nose only added to her perceived snootiness. I had almost thrown her out last week, but she was so contrite, that she would endure any punishment and begged so well for a second chance, that I granted her plea. She had taken her week long punishment well, and this was the last day. But now, exhausted and marked up with all her previous whippings, she was near her breaking point.
Emma’s swings with the whip were wide and strong. Just like mine. She connected solidly with Judith’s ass and back, then ducked under the spread legs and started to work on the inside part of the thighs, stomach, and breasts. Judith’s shoulder length, blonde hair, was drenched in sweat like the rest of her body. Her wet, female nether region was wide open.
Emma struck her a few more times, raising thin, bright red welts in between the old, dull ones. Judith gritted her teeth, squeezed shut her eyes, then opened them when Emma stopped. They were bright, but not glazed. All her senses were heightened to a rare level that I also knew all too well. In such a state you experience everything in sharp detail, no fog bound hazes like with drugs or other artificial stimulants. And because she soared in that super reality, she also saw quite clearly when Emma threw the whip aside and took up a leather cat o’ nine tails, and also knew exactly what that meant.
Her breathing shortened, eyes grew wide. Sweat dripped off her chin and splashed on the hardwood floor.
Emma twisted the cat in her hand.
“No. Please,” Judith whined.
“You know you deserve it,” Emma calmly said. “Or do you want the Tombs?”
“No! Oh, god, not that!”
Emma’s arm spun in an upwards, roundhouse arc.
The cat struck her square between the legs.
Judith’s small hands pulled her up on the wrist ropes that were already stretched taut, which only tightened the ones tied around her ankles even more. Eyes shut, head thrown back, Judith screamed at the ceiling, one long, lung-emptying howl. Yet, it wasn’t so much the whip, but Judith’s own internal explosions that kept her body shaking in the stringent bonds. Emma twisted the cat again and waited. Waited for Judith’s orgasms to subside, her screams of painful pleasure to fade away, until all that remained were her breathy pants. At last Judith hung limp.
“Are you ready to speak the truth?”
Judith roused. “No, please don’t make me—”
Another swing of the cat. Another scream. Another orgasm. Even better than before. Yes, Judith had potential.
Emma twisted the cat again. Swung her arm back.
“All right! All right!” Judith shrieked.
“Then say it and mean it!” Emma yelled. “Say it!”
The cat swung. A solid connect on the inside left thigh.
“I’m a cunt!”
Another swing, this one on the right.
“Cunt!”
Across the breasts.
“CUUUNNNTTT!”
I nodded in approval. Emma had learned well. She had experienced her submission, accepted what she was, yet still retained a streak of the headstrong, of self-identity. She would make a fine match at the end of Mr. Reynolds’ leash.
“Excellent, Emma,” I said, when she paused in her swings. “Now, Miss Flynn, if you’ll follow me…”
I started for my office, but didn’t hear any trailing footsteps this time. I turned back. Dawn was rooted to the spot while hands covered her lower face. Her eyes were wide, almost as wide as Judith’s and I immediately realized my error.
“Miss Flynn?” I said, and slowly stepped toward her. “Miss Flynn? Let’s go to my office.”
Dawn didn’t move. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”
“It’s…It’s all right, Dawn,” I said. “Really. Everything is fine.”
“Fine?” Dawn said, breathing hard. “Fine? No, it isn’t fine! I…I have to get out of here!”
“No, Dawn, no!” I gripped her shoulders. “It’s not like that. Yes, people are tied up here, even whipped. But not brainwashed. Judith can always leave. But she won’t. She won’t because she wants to be here.”
“Well, I don’t. I don’t! Let me go. Let me go!”
She wrenched out of my hands, my tight hands that didn’t want to release her. The inside door flew open, then the outer one and Dawn’s hurried steps faded away. I had allowed my own wants, my own desperate needs to blind me, make me forget about the situation into which I was bringing a rookie. It was too much, too much! Even I would have turned tail and run. Which is exactly what Dawn did.
I leaned my head against the door. Fool. Fool!
“Madame? Are you well?”
It was Emma, her hand hung in mid-air, as if to touch my shoulder, but not daring to make that intimate connection.
I straightened, smoothed out the front of my dress. “Yes, Emma, I’m fine. Really,” I said, all crisp and businesslike. I checked the grandfather clock in the hall. “There’s still over twenty minutes left in Judith’s punishment. Please, continue. I’ll be in my office. And Emma…”
“Yes, Madame?”
“I want to hear Judith’s screams as if I were standing right next to you. Then, after dinner come see me. It’s time we discussed your placement.”
“Yes, Madame!”
Emma twisted the cat in her hands again, and Judith shook her head no. For all the good it did her. Give it to her good, Emma! Yes, Judith could leave here at any time. As could Emma, as could any of the others I currently had under lock and key. But not me.
Judith’s screams reverberated throughout the house well before I shut my office door. They were so loud nobody could hear as I cried for myself, at how I’d probably never see that lovely creature, Dawn Flynn, again, and how, when she dashed out, she took with her all my hopes.

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