Whispers From The Edge

Chapter One-3

I blinked. “You don’t want to dominate me anymore?”

“No, it’s not that." Spencer struggled with his words. “You push yourself to the edge. I’m afraid some day I won’t be able to pull you back. This guy I know is a good match. He can take you where you need to go and keep you safe.”

I threw down the rope. “I don’t want to be safe!”

The silence between us grew. Spencer’s jaw tightened but he took this as his cue to exit. I remained still long after the door shut.

It wasn’t any good knowing this was all fake. Tonight Spencer came closer than anyone ever before, but I should’ve known it was too good to last. Another dom I used up, just like all the others; capable of giving only a portion of what I needed. The one I wanted would know just how to treat me, he’d know just how far to go. No negotiated limits. If only I could find him.

As I ran Spencer’s last words over in my mind my irritation only grew. Dammit, I had a nice after scene glow going and he ruined it with the idea of this unknown man. Still, a faint hope flowered in me. Will this guy be the real thing? The chance always exists, however slight. Ah, crap, whom am I kidding? The odds of this stranger being what I want are about as good as my winning the lottery. He’s more likely a slightly different version of all the others. Oh, he’ll come on talking tough, maybe even briefly come up to my level for a few sessions. That’ll be it though. I’d be left frustrated and tearing the sheets apart at night again. s**t, s**t, s**t!

I threw the door open, startling the threesome waiting to get in. I strode out, my boots clipping on the tiles in a steady, fast pace. When I reached the club’s main, open floor I made a beeline for the door.

“R.J.,” Spencer called.

Despite the noise I heard him. I caught sight of a man standing behind him at the bar, but I made a quick, dismissive gesture. I focused back on the door but I also noted a scene happening with Chris and Andi.

She was tied to a table, arms tightly cradling her head, legs spread wide. Chris has a dildo and the tip rested just outside Andi’s p***y. Chris barely inserted it and Andi moaned. He pushed it in a little more, but his style was hesitant, barely enough to even wake a woman up, let alone to bring her off. Andi isn’t any better though. Instead of giving honest reactions, her moans were worse than a porno actress in a cheap video.

I altered course and slapped Chris’s hand, like he were a child.

“What? Hey - ”

His reactions were too slow. I pushed him aside and he bumped into an oncoming Spencer. Before they could recover I’ve already laid into Andi.

My arm is a machine, I push, push, push the dildo deep inside her, like a piston in a revved up engine. Her moans, all blithe and fairy like, suddenly turn throaty. Her eyes snap open and she fixates on the distant pipes under the ceiling. I turn the dildo from a substitute for a c**k into an instrument of deliverance, powered by my own anger. Andi wants to know what it’s really like to be under someone else’s control? I’ll show her! I’ll make her scream!

Andi let loose at the top of her lungs. Her contractions didn’t come so much in several little waves as more like a tsunami. Her back arched and her eyes rolled up in the back of her head.

“What the hell are you doing?" It’s Spencer. He’s ready to kill me.

My blood boils. “What does it look like? Women aren’t porcelain dolls to keep on the shelf. We want it soft, but we want it heavy too. What we don’t want is a bunch of p***y masters!”

“Bullshit!” Spencer yelled. “This is a young couple just starting out. You don’t pump up the volume right away. Never mind about cutting in on their scene.”

“What scene? All I saw were a couple of pansy moves from him with some idiotic ‘Oh, no, master. Please stop’ attitude from her. f**k that s**t!”

I’m shouting at the top of my voice. Suddenly, I realize that’s all I hear. The club music has stopped. I turn around. Masters, mistresses, slaves; they all stare at me. Their eyes burn me, right through to my soul. I find myself reflected in their hard, accusing expressions and I don’t like what I see; a raving rat b***h who thinks that a scene can’t be played any other way but one – her way. The ultimate cunt in topping from below. My face reddens.

The only ones that aren’t staring are Chris and Andi. Chris has bent over her, stroked her face, spoke soothing words to her. Andi’s eyes are glassy. She still hasn’t returned from the stratosphere.

Alright, they want a b***h, I’ll give’em one. I yell at Spencer. “If you think I’m so wrong, ask her.”

I rushed to the door. It banged open against the wall. I’m out on the cold, empty street.

The music started up again inside, its dull beat coming through the solid brick wall and black steel door. They’re all back at it now, with their whips and chains, ropes and gags. Back to their little games, their little fantasies of dominance and submission. No one is about to come outside, or even admit that I was just in there. I just waved my flag of independent thought in all their faces, now I have to live with it.

No taxis are out this late. Not even the els are running. I don’t care. Anyone tries messing with me and they’ll be sorry. A chilly breeze wafts down the street, blowing an urban tumbleweed of a crumpled newspaper across my path. I gather my leather coat close about me and begin my long, lonely journey home.