Dent Farre thinks he has it all. Retired owner of several high profile
companies, he is now a full member at the exclusive men's BDSM club the
Velvet Glove. He has anything he wants available at his fingertips,
including a host of subs at his beck and call. So why is he so angry and
frustrated all the time?
The Velvet Glove's owner believes that Bertoli Lutrell, a Dominant who runs
very intense scenes might be just what Dent needs. But just as Lutrell and
Dent are beginning to make progress together, Dent is kidnapped.
Will he escape his captors in one piece? And if he does, will Luttrell be
able to reach him after months of torture?
Read this tale from the Velvet Glove and find out!
The Velvet Glove was the galaxy's premier BDSM club and only had only the
best of everything. They had tops and bottoms, whip-wielders and nipple
clamps. Piercers, tattoo artists, students of every erotic art form
There was a bad ass top to oversee it all and a sweet fluttery bird to
soothe feathers and keep everything running smoothly
There were masseuses and therapists and a medical doctor who took care of
And then there was him.
Dr. Bertoli Lutrell.
He had a medical degree, true enough. And he was a legitimate medical
doctor. But his purpose was quite different from Doc's. He used his medical
knowledge for erotic effect.
Enemas, sounds, electrical shock. These were the tools of his scenes. He
would top for a very particular kind of sub. And he was good at it. Quite
good at it in fact. He really doubted there was anyone better.
Lutrell was a tall man, with short, short almost white hair and a short
beard to match. He was thin, some would say gaunt, and his eyes were a
piercing light blue, intense. When Lutrell looked at you, you believed he
He was also terribly happy to be doing what he was doing where he was doing
it. Life, for Lutrell, was a party, with certain medical tools and
procedures as favors.
Today he was going to see Kestrel, his list of needs written out. He giggled
softly as he walked along the pristine corridor, going over the list.
Perhaps he should have another gross of enema tubing. Yes, yes, one could
never have too much.
Kestrel fluttered about, hands filled with three commpads. Still, when he
appeared, he received a warm, friendly smile, Kestrel waving him in to sit,
amazing colored hair fascinating. "Good day, dear! So nice to see you
Lutrell chuckled softly. He loved his work. Very, very much. Smiling was
something he had no trouble doing. "Good day to you, Kestrel. You look busy.
Do you have time for me today? I don't need a lot of it."
"Always." Little liar. Kestrel's time was more precious than gold. "How can
I help you?"
"I have my list of requirements to be ordered." He handed the pad over with
a little giggle. "I like to be well-stocked. Just in case, you know?" Yes,
just in case someone special happened along. Really, most of the men he saw
were curious as to the pleasures he could bring, very few saw him more than
a time or two.
"Of course, dear. I'll have everything you need sent immediately. I did wish
to speak with you, while you're here. There's a man... A rather." Kestrel's
lips pursed. "I'm really not sure how to put it, honestly. But Mal asked for
you to free a forty-eight hour period and to come see him."
"Oh?" Lutrell moved to the edge of his seat, butterflies fluttering inside.
"A man with the kind of needs only I can fulfill?"
"That is what Mal believes, yes. He was matched with a sub and it went...