: Alexander Kelly 2017-06-28
: Eternity Collar
: Pink Flamingo Media
: 9781935897194
: 1
: CHF 2.90
:
: Erzählende Literatur
: English
: 121
: kein Kopierschutz
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB
Taren ? ?scene? name Little Sister ? is dying to know what happens in the basement of the SM Club Leather Heel. Bravely venturing downstairs one night, she faces her first bdsm scene, whenÿshe's blindfolded and played with by a handful of strangers. The scene is rough. However later, when she?s anonymously presented with an Eternity Collar, she?s scared to death of what it means and runs away, vowing to never return.

The Eternity Collar

By Alexander Kelly

ISBN 13: 978-1-935897-19-4

ISBN 10: 1-935897-19-5

A Pink Flamingo Ebook Publication

Copyright © 2010 Alexander Kelly

All rights reserved

Prologue

I knew the way so well, I could drive there in my sleep. The funny thing was, whenever I stepped inside, it felt like I finally woke up.

The place was in the seediest part of Hollywood. Only drug dealers, pimps and whores hung out there, but then you didn’t expect it to be anywhere else. Somehow, a SM leather bar in the suburbs just didn’t seem right. And the flickering neon light above the non-descript door left no doubt about its intent.

Leather Heel.

It should have read something else, which would have been more to the point, but once inside, you discovered the owner didn’t put a lot of upkeep into the place, so when the petering out glowing neon gas started to rearrange a letter, it just somehow fit. The sign was like a beacon for all the leather teddies; dom, sub, gay, straight, pointing the way for everyone in the scene to find others of like mind. A few went there all the time, living the lifestyle to the fullest, others on certain nights, while most walked through that door only when they couldn’t stand another day without the smell of leather, the unforgiving hug of the ropes, or the smack of leather on flesh.

I belonged to the last group. My involvement had started innocently enough, about eight months ago, on one of those foolish sorority dares. (“I’m bored. What’s to do?” “Another tat run?” “Hey, I’ve got an idea, if anyone’s brave enough.”) Just a bunch of drunk, bubble-headed college girls who somehow piled into a car to cruise the seamier side of town, away from the pristine campus, get deliciously scandalized, then return to their clean beds, tucked under the warm covers and their arms hugging stuffed animals. So it began. We ogled the kinky people, the gays in their boots and jackets, the dykes with their spiked hair, the straight men and women dominating or submitting, but then someone suggested it might be fun to go inside. The next thing we knew we all found ourselves in the Leather Heel, a bunch of hyper, clean-cut college girls that stood out amongst all the SM toughs. Everyone in our group wanted to party, party, party, take a walk on the wild side, have a drink, whoop it up. Strange thing though, I thought the leather people might cop an attitude like “Who the hell are these fucking rich bitches?”, but they were all genuinely friendly. Probably because we were something new, fresh, and unspoiled. And probably bec