As the days pass, Amy will be reminded those fairy tales were once much darker things. Circumstance will see her fall helplessly into a world of darker passion and submission to the man that swept her off her feet.
His training will prove to be far more erotic and sensual than she could have ever imagined, drawing her deeper and deeper into his world.
It’s a world Amy has no escape from. A world she no longer wants to escape.
I may have said this before - may have even said it a lot, knowing me - but this is one of those books on the side I wanted to write one day. One of the many twisted little dark things in the back of my mind. The opportunity arose for it to be a good time to write it, and so here we are.
The Dressmaker's Doll may seem innocent and innocuous enough at first, it begins as a nice story of how one little moment can set a person freefalling into the a world they'd never have expected. Once you get into someone's life a little differently, a little more intimately, a whole different side of them can come out. For Amy, this meant discovering Julian's dominance. As a dressmaker and designer he adheres to what people might expect, putting his passion into the creation of unique pieces while staying far and away from attention. He has his reasons for wanting privacy and there's as many rumours as stipulation to why.
As a man, he's a wholly different beast of dominance and power that takes Amy's breath away and lets her mind run wild over the dark, sordid pleasure of submitting to him and how he makes her feel like a doll with just some simple commands and a ball gag. This leads to showing her the darker side of clothing, making her submit not only to him, but his design. Through Amy's perspective, the seemingly simple act of putting on clothing manages to become its own powerful and erotic act of submission for her.
Her walk down this dark path is an interesting one, with a possibly controversial end that really makes it a dark fantasy. I left a lot of it essentially vague to not spoil the mood, as surreal and improper as it may be, but this story is as seen by the young girl. I might write 'the other story' surrounding it one day, depending on feedback and such, but that's all I'll say outside of the end-of-book author note. For now, enjoy this tale.
Excerpt follows the pagebreak:
~*~
“You’re
not ready for all of them, but… I’d like to see you in this one, see how it
makes you feel.” Julian offered, picking out a black and red high-necked piece.
It bore puffy shoulders with straps to either side, a sheer black corset and a
seemingly empty chest area, all but for the dark red lace lining, threaded with
gold. Below the corset line was what would barely pass for a miniskirt tuft of material
and more loose straps. The fine cut and trim curve left her doubting there was
something missing, for it looked lovingly crafted to hold that shape.
“I…
you’ll help me put this on, right?” She had to ask, unsure how to even begin
opening it, and not wanting to look like some fool that tried to just sling it
over her head and wriggle in. Even without the snug, high neckpiece, it was
clearly far more intricate than something to be squeezed into. His smile was
still somehow soothing as he nodded, patting her head and handing her the
garment before turning her away from the cabinet.
“There’s
some accessories to it, but you wouldn’t be able to put most of it on yourself
anyway. I’m here for you though, don’t worry.” Julian explained, and somehow
her nerves did calm. With his
guidance, she was sure she could slip into anything. Of course, wearing the
clothing was hardly a challenge against creating it, but Amy still understood
that there was a certain talent and language to how you wore something. She
only hoped she could appease him.
“First,
turn it around. Let me see the back.” He requested, and Amy didn’t mind the
chance to have it turned around, hiding her shame against amazingly cool and soft
silk padding. She tried to ignore how it felt, brushing softly against her
nipples as he worked the clasps along the back. The buckles reminded her of a
metallic spine, a straight length of perfect silver blocks running up the back
of the corset, all the way to the high neck.
With
them undone, the dress – if it could really be called such a thing – all but
came apart, unfurling like magic into something much easier to slip into, as
though it was made to wrap around, hug and lock the wearer within it. There was
something sensual and poetic about that, which didn’t surprise Amy, considering
who had designed it.
“Good,
now turn it around and gently put your arm in here, slowly. Then this one.” Julian
instructed, slowly guiding her into it. The tone made her smile comfortably,
for it didn’t leave her feeling belittled or rushed. It also made her feel like
the dress was truly precious and
fragile, making it all the more meaningful that she was allowed into it.
Moving
behind her, Julian began by gently tucking her high neck brace into place,
forcing Amy to raise her head in a show of pride suitable for one wearing such
a garment. For all it looked perfectly smooth, a subtle firmness in the centre gave
her the feeling of collaring. Difficult to swallow, even breathing came more
strained as the dominance in his dress’ design sunk into her.
The
next buckle, just below the nape of her neck only reinforced the feeling. While
gentle, it pulled her shoulders back and forced them into a proper posture that
pushed her chest forward through the still loose opening in the chest of its
front. Seeing the dress almost morph around her, digging into and forcing her
to submit to its design made Amy breathless even before it had her chest and
stomach in its grip like a firm lover.
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