The Mesmer Society: A College BDSM Club

By A.R. Lain

"Sexy, edgy, and intriguing, this story isn't your average erotic romance." –The TBR pile

"I heard the dark rumors floating around the campus about the Mesmers. Rumors about things that turned my blood cold and made me feel oddly hot at the same time..."

When photojournalism student Elliot Reid receives a personal invitation to join the Mesmer Society, she jumps on the occasion to infiltrate and expose the most mysterious and exclusive club on campus.

But she is soon faced with a much more interesting mystery: Luke Harper. The man looks like sin and his voice can melt even her strongest resolve... he's the Mesmers' most eligible member, yet he remains withdrawn and doesn't seem to take part in the club's traditions.

Unable to resist the force that pulls her to him, Elliot must surrender to the Mesmers' lustful ways. Amidst the secret society's ceremonials and lavish parties, she discovers a strong fascination towards the sexiest yet darkest aspects of the club.

THE MESMER SOCIETY will sweep you into the world of Ivy League students for which wealth and extravagant behaviors is the norm. It offers a realistic and emotional account of extraordinary situations.

If you love the pace of young adult novels but are yearning for the steam of erotica like Fifty Shades of Grey, then pick up your copy of THE MESMER SOCIETY!

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.R. Lain
• Release date: Jul 3, 2013
• ISBN: 9781501408755

A.R. Lain

<h1>About the Author</h1> <p>     A.R. Lain writes about witty heroines going through the trials of becoming adult, losing their innocence, and learning about themselves on the way.     Handsome strangers cloaked in mystery make the journey more difficult… but also infinitely more rewarding! </p> <p>     A self-proclaimed thrill seeker, A.R. Lain left her corporate job years ago on a quest for happiness and adventures. She believes in the unmistakable     chemistry of love and in chasing this elusive dragon. She wants to share her appetite for self-discovery by writing thrilling stories of romance and     passion. </p>

Book preview

Chapter 1

I adjusted my corset for the hundredth time. I hated the way the plastic boning was arching against my body, forcing me to stand upright while the only thing I really wanted was to let myself melt in this armchair. I had been sitting here for almost an hour and I was starting to wonder if it was really worth the trouble.

I couldn’t remember who had brought up the idea, Jason or me, but the result was just the same. I was the one putting my ass —literally— on the line for a chance at the story of the decade. As the chief editor of the University’s journal, Jason was salivating at the idea to infiltrate the Mesmer Society, the most exclusive and secretive club on campus —but I also suspected he took a certain sick pleasure in throwing me to these wolves.

That’s your chance, Elliot, he had encouraged me. "You know how many students have tried to get in? You have to do this. It could be the biggest story I get to publish this year."

It had been a real stroke of luck, that Alex took notice of me. I mean... I always knew I was pretty —I would have been a fool not to notice the attention I got from men— but I’d never bothered to do the required tweaks to be beautiful —like a real woman. I had started to dress in black because I thought it was the way photojournalism students ought to dress. I guess somewhere along the way in my first year of college I just got used to blending in the background.

I took a look at the other girls sitting on the couches around me. There was about eleven of us, all dolled up in the same ridiculous outfit, the kind I’d never even worn for a lover: high heels, thigh high stockings and garters, a surprisingly demure black satin slip and the matching corset I’d come to hate in the past hour. I guess it was actually tasteful for this particular kind of attire. No frills, unnecessary lace or —god forbid!— fur.

These girls didn’t need more adornments anyway. You know how it’s often difficult to differentiate between beautiful people —they all seem a bit the same: symmetrical features, perfect bodies, plastic expressions. Well these women weren’t like this. Alex seemed to have put together a collection of the most interesting and unique beauties on campus.

Just as I was wondering how I was supposed to fit in this carefully composed group, the large wooden doors finally opened. Alex was standing in the opening, looking fabulous in a severe grey pencil skirt softened by a girlish purple blouse with ruffled sleeves and a loose bow at the neck. Her red hair was tied high in a messy bun, a few loose locks falling carelessly around her perfectly oval face. Sure, she was beautiful, but what was most stunning about Alex couldn’t be seen. It was in the invisible aura that seemed to surround her. She had grace. Charm. Poise. Don’t ask me what exactly it is that she had, but I had to admit it had gotten me curious from the first time we met.

She had approached me during a moment of weakness —Jason and I had just broken up again. I’d gone out with friends with the plan of getting myself drunk enough to let someone bring me back home with them.  I just wanted to forget about my tiring three-way relationship with Jason and his damn ego.

After a few hours of being bugged by the same group of middle aged guys in the city to assist to a business convention, I had withdrawn to the restroom to avoid the increasingly insisting advances one of them was directing my way. That’s where Alex had found me. I had noticed the woman earlier in the night, sipping her unfussy beer by herself. It was hard not to notice her, as she seemed to naturally act as a center of gravitation in the room. I couldn’t help but notice how gracious she was to everyone while still being able to keep a decent bubble of privacy around her.

I remembered thinking how I wished I could command a room in the same fashion. By then I was a decent shade of drunk, otherwise I would never had gathered the courage to speak to her. For someone who had dreamed to become a journalist since she was able to read the papers, I had always been oddly shy. But that night, filled with alcohol induced courage, I asked that impressive woman if she would share her secret with me.

To this day, I’m not even sure myself what I meant with this request, but Alex had smiled to me as if she understood exactly what I wanted. We had talked a bit, and I learned she was a postgraduate student at my college, and that she was working for a private organization on the campus. Now that I think of it, I talked way more than she did. I remember her nodding kindly as I spilled everything about Jason, about how selfish he was, and how little he cared about us. It felt as if we had talked for hours, but my friends assured me later that I hadn’t spent more than 30 minutes in the restroom.

That night, I left the bar with my friends —well, the group was short of two girls, who had both decided to follow the out-of-town guys to their hotel’s bar— and went to my apartment alone. It was the doorbell that woke me up the next day at the time I usually took my fifth cup of coffee. I had answered the door in my tattered bathrobe and signed for the package mindlessly, my hangover slowly snowballing in a world class headache.

I can’t remember my first thought as I had opened the beautifully carved wooden box. I know I didn’t notice the Mesmers’ seal before I tore it apart. It was only after the second or third reading that I had realized what I had just received. A personal invitation to attend to this year’s initiation of the secret society, signed by Alex Weir, the head secretary of the club —as well as the outfit pledges were required to wear.

I knew just about as much about the Mesmer Society as anyone else that wasn’t a part of it. I knew that they were extremely secretive about the nature of their activities, and that no one had ever publicly admitted being a part of the organization. I had also heard about the dark rumors that were floating around the campus. Things that turned my blood cold and made me feel oddly warm at the same time.

I don’t know what pushed me to call Jason and tell him about the invitation. I think a part of me was hoping for the moving plea of a lover begging me to steer away from these people. But a bigger part of me must have known that he would want me to accept the invitation and report back to the journal. Maybe it was the incentive I was after, the little boost I would require to go through with it.

In any case, here I was now, in the Mesmers’ antechamber, with only Alex and the guy standing behind her separating me from the inner sanctum of the best kept secret on campus.

Welcome ladies, Alex said. I see you are all ready to begin. I won’t delay you any longer, but there’s a few things we need to cover before we proceed further. First, I want to thank you all for being here. I know you came on a bit of an act of faith. I couldn’t tell you much, but you will get to learn more about our little organization as the night unfolds. In addition to your discretion, there’s only one thing that we ask of you tonight. The ceremony you’re about to attend is a fifty year old tradition, and we ask that you go along with it. You’ll be given a few occasions to back down if you’re not comfortable with what is asked of you. Please wait for these moments to make your decision. As I told you, it takes an open mind to join our ranks, and this way you make sure that you gave it a fair try.

The tall copper haired guy standing behind Alex swept the room with an appraising look and a corner of his mouth lifted in a satisfied snarl.

I hope you will find this night interesting, continued Alex. But before we can proceed further however, we have a little surprise waiting for you.

For the first time since I set foot in the Mesmers’ mansion, my heart started thumping in my tightly compressed chest. Just like when Alex had approached me the first time, all kinds of alarms triggered loudly inside my head, warning me to steer off —the same alarms telling me there was a good story somewhere in there if I was brave enough to dig for it.

A quick glance around told me I wasn’t the only one being nervous. A small dark haired girl who I thought I had seen working at the library was trembling so much I could almost hear her knees banging together. I took a breath so deep I could feel my breasts eaving almost dangerously over the tight piece of fabric covering them.

We entered the ballroom behind Alex and the copper haired guy. I couldn’t help but gasp before the richness of my surroundings. Sure, the mansion was impressive from the curbside to the antechamber —even the room in which we had changed was wider and richer than the best hotel room I had ever stayed in.

But this ballroom... this ballroom was something else. Curtains of Swarovski crystals flowed from all corners to the enormous chandelier in the center of the room, forming glistening veils that reflected in the antique mirrors covering the walls. The floor was of dark polished stone arranged in a pattern too large for me to discern, and it seemed to drink some of the light that was coming from everywhere, bathing the room in a soft warm glow.

It’s only then that it dawned on me that this ceremony wouldn’t be the relatively private affair I was expecting. Sitting on lavish leather couches facing the same direction, people in hooded robes were waiting —I assumed— for us. There was about sixty of them, all hiding in the anonymity granted by the dramatic hoods hanging low on their faces. Even from the distance, I could still distinguish females and males from the smaller and larger figures.

Alex and the two guys lead us through the silent crowd to one end of the room, where a semicircular stage bordered by thick black velvet curtains seemed to be waiting for us. Alex stepped on the stairs climbing the stage, and without hesitation, we all followed her in an orderly line. It was like we were all entranced by the spectacle of the room —too entranced to realize that we actually were the spectacle being offered to the audience.

Eleven chairs were waiting for us at the back of the stage, and we all crossed the scene to position ourselves as if we’d been instructed. As I sat on the richly upholstered seat, I suddenly realized how nervous I was.

There we were, all lined up in front of this strange audience who hadn’t uttered a sound since our entry. My arms were covered by a layer of sweat that could possibly have passed for a sexy sheen in the incredible lighting overflowing the stage, if it hadn’t been so blatantly betrayed by my shaking hands and the red I could almost feel spreading all over my face. Again, I took a deep breath and caught a glimpse of the girl on my right. She was looking straight ahead, above the crowd looking at us from the couches, but her chin was quivering and there was no mistaking the small pool forming in her eyes.

Ladies, said Alex in the wireless microphone taken from a side of the stage, you were chosen as potential members of our society. Some of you may have heard rumors concerning what we’re about, some of which may or may not be true. In order to alleviate any questions you may have concerning our organization, we will soon assist to a demonstration featuring two of our eminent members. But please, for now, I would invite you to review the content of the envelopes being lowered in front of you at this moment.

Just as she pronounced these words, I noticed a large cream envelope hanging right before my eyes. Everyone in the room was silent, including the ten other girls who looked as surprise as I was by the sudden apparition. I took the envelope and proceeded to break the wax seal bearing the club’s logo.

I took a look inside.

Nothing.

Around me, the girls were going through the content of their envelopes, and I could guess by the expressions on their faces that they were not happy about what they found.

I plunged my hand in mine, in case I had missed something. It was totally empty.

When she was sure everyone had acknowledged the content of their envelopes, Alex continued her speech. Think of these files as an insurance policy for your privacy and the privacy of the club. You’re about to be introduced to our secrets, it’s only fair that we know a bit about yours.

So, that’s what it was all about. The envelopes must have contained dirt about their recipients. Had the organization hired detectives to dig up something about everyone? But then... why was mine empty? It’s not as if my past was entirely clear of shame...

I caught a sight of Alex looking at me intently, and I thought I saw her winking at me. Could she have known about my plan of writing an article about the club? But then why invite me? Why give me the leeway I needed to write something that could potentially hurt everyone in this room? What game was she playing?

I noticed the lighting changing suddenly on the stage. And now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for... She did a little flourish with her hand toward two silhouettes rising from a couch nearby and making their way to the stage.

I noticed that the smaller silhouette was guided by the taller one. At the stair, the one that was guiding the other stopped and gently picked up the small hooded figure in his arms, then climbed the steps as if it was nothing. He put her down in the center of the stage just a few feet in front of us.

The man took his hood down and let the robe fall at his feet. He was only wearing a pair of black pants, but on his chiseled chest was a large tattoo that wrapped around his body, spreading up his left shoulder and upper arm, and down to his lower back. A stunning tribal design in black ink that seemed to be tracing the definition of his muscles, intensifying his already powerful presence.

I was motionless on my chair, entirely captivated by the man’s movements as he delicately undid the clasp holding the woman’s robe, letting it slide from her shoulders into a dark pool on the floor.

She was standing perfectly still, completely naked except for the intricate web of ropes that went from her neck to her thighs, framing her breast and contouring her hips. I noticed a tattoo climbing up her legs all the way to her hips and around to her lower back. It was similar in style to the man’s, but the lines looked slightly more delicate, more sensual. A thin length of scarf was covering her eyes, explaining why she had needed the man’s guidance.

Just as I was starting to process the scene before me, I saw chains being lowered down from the ceiling.

Chapter 2

It’s not as if it was a big surprise. I mean, from all the rumors that were floating around the campus about the Mesmer Society, I can’t imagine any of the pledges present on the stage with me not being at least slightly prepared for the lustful ways of the secret society.

Still, even with all the preliminary research I had done, I couldn’t help the uneasy feeling building up in my throat as the demonstration unfolded before me.

The man took one of the chains hanging from the ceiling, and hooked it to a loop of rope right under the woman’s breasts. Another chain was attached to a similar loop at her waist, and two more to the ropes circling the apex of her thighs.

A small gesture from the man and the chains started moving again, tensing and slowly lifting the woman above the floor. She arched gracefully into the motion, letting her head fall back in a cascade of blonde hair as she was elevated at the same level as the man’s waist.

Her limbs were dangling awkwardly, so the man took her left foot, circled a rope around her ankle and bent it backward to tie it to her left wrist. He did the same on her right side, forcing open the woman’s legs at the same time. Exposed and unable to move, the woman offered no resistance to the man as he gently swept a hand between her legs and caressed her thighs.

The first slap made me jump on my seat. Sharp and precise, his hand landed on the woman’s inner thighs as fast as it had left it. Again and again, he spanked the woman in the exact same place. She moaned under the pain, but it was nothing compared to the eleven of us wincing at every strike.

From where I was sitting, I could see the tender flesh of her thighs turning to a bolder shade of red. I was hypnotized by the motion, and couldn’t explain to myself the signification of the strange exchange happening between the two of them. He slapped the woman once more, with even stronger force this time, but instead of lifting his hand again, he just caressed her tenderly, and leaned between her to leave a gentle kiss on her inflamed skin.

I had almost failed to notice the small wooden cart that had been pushed on the stage. Several objects were aligned on its velvet tray, but I couldn’t make out any of them. The man chose a sleek oval object and held it before us in demonstration. He pushed a small button and the vibrator purred in his hand under our collective stare.

He stepped toward the suspended woman again and cupped her sex with one hand, parting her lips gently with his thumb, stroking her clit gently in slow rotating motions. The woman’s breathing was getting louder, and I couldn’t help wriggling in my chair, feeling the warmth rising from between my legs.

The man suddenly slid his fingers inside her and started thrusting repeatedly with more vigor than I thought a woman could take. Even with the limitation of her bounds, the woman seemed to be writhing to meet his movements, panting heavily in a matching rhythm.

She must have been moist with arousal by then, as he stopped his motion and pushed the sleek vibrator very easily inside her. Her body seemed to tense at first, then relaxed almost completely, as if she was just surrendering to the sensation.

As for myself, I was feeling the heat of the spotlights and of my own desires, and was starting to be a bit too aware of the girls around me on the stage —not to mention the sixty or so people who were witnessing our every reactions from the couches. Shameful, I tried to look away, but I was just too enthralled to take my eyes off the man and his helpless partner.

The man was now lighting a big red candle taken from the wooden cart, while the woman was still squirming from the vibrations of the toy inserted in her sex. He walked back to her, and started to tip the candle right above her heaving breasts. She let go of a small cry as the first drop of melted wax touched her skin. The man motioned the candle over her panting chest, leaving a beautiful trail of red dots on her pale skin. He lowered the candle a little, so that the wax would drop even hotter, and let it drip on her nipples, coating them carefully.