growing louder the faster she walked. Rae couldn’t see what was causing the bells…her skin seemed to touch nothing as she walked through cool black air. But with every step, the echoes of chimes and other shadowed sounds flared painfully in her ears.
Finally she stopped and the cacophony also stopped. The man she chased turned to face her, a look of amusement in the crack of his lips.
“If you want to follow me,” he said, “you must learn to walk between the shadows. You still have much to learn.”
With that, he turned and disappeared into the dark.
Rae ran forward, trying to find him, but as she moved away from the club, the noise grew so loud that she stopped and held her hands to her ears. She couldn’t see anything…the room was black. Now that he was gone, she was totally in the dark. An orchestra of angry sound assailed her ears.
“Wait!” Rae called, trying to be heard above the din, but nothing answered.
“Shit,” she said to herself. She put her hands out, crying again, “Wait,” and the air chimed.
“I will not be afraid of noise,” she promised. But she no longer walked ahead. Rae retraced her steps through the dark, hoping that her feet were truly following the same path and not leading her in circles. The sound inside her head pounded until she felt her eyes swell. She wondered if her ears were bleeding. But little by little it began to diminish. And then her hands met a wall.
She moved along it, a little to the left, and a little to the right, looking for the door. Her hand knocked against something cold and metallic, and Rae grinned, curling her palm around the knob and turning…and then she was suddenly out of the stark aural pain and back in the blue haze of the club. The bell screams turned to human cries of pleasure and pain. Rae smiled. The cries of passion sounded like home. She moved towards a man with a riding crop, and when he favored her with a grin, she bent over and offered herself to his hand.
She accepted his slaps with interest…but as his hand touched her, she felt cold. Bored.
There was sting in his spanking, but something wasn’t connecting with her. He didn’t give her what she needed. Rae began to look around at the other subjects being spanked and whipped around her, and realized there was more to her need than simple pain.
Her chest was filled with a horrible void. Rae found herself struggling not to cry.
“Were you looking for me?” a voice asked. Rae looked up and Kharon stood behind her, a riding crop in his right hand.
“Yes,” Rae admitted. The relief flooded her voice as she wiggled her hips for him to see. She needed him.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to her own as his left hand slid from her bare shoulder, down the velvet skin of her back, to finally cup the soft skin of her ass. His hand squeezed.
“There are things that you must learn if you are to follow me,” Kharon said. “And the first is this.”
He stepped back and raised his hand. Then brought it down.
In moments, Rae’s cries joined the moans that reverberated above the band in the Blue Room.
Cries of wanting.
Cries of ecstasy.
Cries of pain.
Chapter Six
In The Red
The sound of the lash on Amelia’s skin made Gordon’s cock hard beneath his leather. The woman lurched and shook against the stone wall of the torture chamber he’d led her to with every kiss of his whip.
“Are you mine?” he called after every strike. The whip left red weals on top of the latticework of white scars that made up most of Amelia’s body. And after every strike came Amelia’s muffled, tearful refrain—“No, you fucker”—taunting his violence to reach another level.
He obliged, cracking the whip against her ass and thighs, letting it land on the soft flesh of her waist, and dragging its harsh bite against her rib cage. She bled, but he did not stop. This wasn’t a place where people dabbled in pain. This wasn’t the amateur zone where fat men wore diapers and pretended to
Finally she stopped and the cacophony also stopped. The man she chased turned to face her, a look of amusement in the crack of his lips.
“If you want to follow me,” he said, “you must learn to walk between the shadows. You still have much to learn.”
With that, he turned and disappeared into the dark.
Rae ran forward, trying to find him, but as she moved away from the club, the noise grew so loud that she stopped and held her hands to her ears. She couldn’t see anything…the room was black. Now that he was gone, she was totally in the dark. An orchestra of angry sound assailed her ears.
“Wait!” Rae called, trying to be heard above the din, but nothing answered.
“Shit,” she said to herself. She put her hands out, crying again, “Wait,” and the air chimed.
“I will not be afraid of noise,” she promised. But she no longer walked ahead. Rae retraced her steps through the dark, hoping that her feet were truly following the same path and not leading her in circles. The sound inside her head pounded until she felt her eyes swell. She wondered if her ears were bleeding. But little by little it began to diminish. And then her hands met a wall.
She moved along it, a little to the left, and a little to the right, looking for the door. Her hand knocked against something cold and metallic, and Rae grinned, curling her palm around the knob and turning…and then she was suddenly out of the stark aural pain and back in the blue haze of the club. The bell screams turned to human cries of pleasure and pain. Rae smiled. The cries of passion sounded like home. She moved towards a man with a riding crop, and when he favored her with a grin, she bent over and offered herself to his hand.
She accepted his slaps with interest…but as his hand touched her, she felt cold. Bored.
There was sting in his spanking, but something wasn’t connecting with her. He didn’t give her what she needed. Rae began to look around at the other subjects being spanked and whipped around her, and realized there was more to her need than simple pain.
Her chest was filled with a horrible void. Rae found herself struggling not to cry.
“Were you looking for me?” a voice asked. Rae looked up and Kharon stood behind her, a riding crop in his right hand.
“Yes,” Rae admitted. The relief flooded her voice as she wiggled her hips for him to see. She needed him.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to her own as his left hand slid from her bare shoulder, down the velvet skin of her back, to finally cup the soft skin of her ass. His hand squeezed.
“There are things that you must learn if you are to follow me,” Kharon said. “And the first is this.”
He stepped back and raised his hand. Then brought it down.
In moments, Rae’s cries joined the moans that reverberated above the band in the Blue Room.
Cries of wanting.
Cries of ecstasy.
Cries of pain.
Chapter Six
In The Red
The sound of the lash on Amelia’s skin made Gordon’s cock hard beneath his leather. The woman lurched and shook against the stone wall of the torture chamber he’d led her to with every kiss of his whip.
“Are you mine?” he called after every strike. The whip left red weals on top of the latticework of white scars that made up most of Amelia’s body. And after every strike came Amelia’s muffled, tearful refrain—“No, you fucker”—taunting his violence to reach another level.
He obliged, cracking the whip against her ass and thighs, letting it land on the soft flesh of her waist, and dragging its harsh bite against her rib cage. She bled, but he did not stop. This wasn’t a place where people dabbled in pain. This wasn’t the amateur zone where fat men wore diapers and pretended to
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