“What’s your safe word?” the woman said sharply, having no desire for conversation. Already she felt the excitement that Dane’s presence always aroused in her. Dane was so cool, so controlled, so perfect in everyone’s eyes. But she knew; she knew Dane as no one else would ever know her, for she had seen the depths of her despair. And before long, she would witness Dane’s surrender to it.

“The same,” Dane replied tightly. She followed the woman as they moved through the spacious house toward a rear staircase. They climbed to the third floor where a single door faced them. Dane watched the familiar figure sort through a ring of keys and unlock the door. Dane entered first in response to the woman’s gesture.

The room was surprisingly warm. She stood in blackness for a moment, knowing that the darkness was enhanced by the absence of windows. A soft, red glow suddenly suffused the room as a switch was turned on behind her. Dane began to sweat slightly, and her pulse quickened. She did not turn around when she heard the door close resoundingly behind her. She waited. The lights were arranged in recessed ceiling tracks in such a way that much of the space around her was in shadow. There was a deep carpet on the floor and some kind of soundboard on the walls, which absorbed almost any noise. No one would here her cries. No one would witness her defeat. Left alone with her own thoughts in the womb-like atmosphere, Dane quickly lost track of time.

“Take off your clothes.”

Dane started slightly at the voice, which cut through the silence from somewhere in the shadows. She reached for her vest.

“Slowly.”

Dane’s right hand, trembling slightly, worked each snap free on the damp leather. She pulled it off and dropped it. She raised first one slender leg and then the other to remove her boots. Next she released the buckle at her waist and freed the buttons on her fly to bare her naked flesh. The heat, the soft red light, and the stillness closed in around her as she pushed the smooth leather down her legs to bare herself completely.

The woman in the shadows smiled triumphantly. Dane was physically exposed to her, helpless and without protection. Soon she would be emotionally naked as well.

Moments passed and still Dane stood unmoving in the center of the room. Her mind slowly emptied itself of all thought as the sound of her own heartbeat became louder in her ears. She tensed slightly at the touch of a hand on her back, but she did not turn. The darkness became total as a soft, close-fitting leather hood was pulled over her head and fastened snugly around her neck. Her eyes were completely covered, but there were ample spaces for her nose and mouth, making it warm inside but allowing easy breathing. Something was pressed to her nose.

“Inhale,” the voice directed.

Dane did and almost immediately felt a wave of heat wash over her. Her head began to pound, and her skin tingled. She was aware of being pushed firmly forward, her body seeming to move without her guidance. The hood blocked her keenest senses, her sight and hearing, and isolated her from her surroundings. She was forced now to experience events through her skin—to open the natural barrier of her body and to feel through it. They stopped suddenly, and Dane felt thick, soft straps being buckled around her wrists and ankles. Her body was pulled off balance, first one way and then another as her limbs were secured to a scaffold. She hung suspended in such a way that her feet barely touched the floor. Her arms were stretched out over her head, the leather restraints taut, just verging on painful. She floated in the silent blackness.

Her master walked softly to the side of the room, seated herself on a stool at a small bar, and studied her handiwork. Dane’s finely muscled back and small, firm buttocks looked tantalizing in the muted red light. She forced herself to wait for a few moments, knowing this would enhance Dane’s sense of disembodiment. She poured brandy into a glass and sipped it slowly. Finally, she opened a small cabinet set into the wall and removed the largest of her braided cats, a treacherous whip when handled by someone less practiced than her. Her hand closed around the heavy leather-wrapped handle, her entire being focused on the pale, naked, hooded form before her.

Dane had drifted so far into her own inner world, that, at first, she did not recognize the odd sensation on her thigh. When the second blow, harder than the first, landed across her buttock, her head snapped up in response. She forced herself not to tense her back muscles, knowing from experience it would make the cutting strokes more painful. She tried to focus on the way her skin felt after the blow had landed and the immediate flash of pain had passed. There was a tingling heat left behind which felt like a bright, raw light. Soon she lost count of the strokes falling more rapidly and harder across her upper back and shoulders. Her mind, divorced from ordinary sensation, became suffused with the cumulative agony of the blows, releasing her deeply buried fears and terrors. As she opened herself to the physical pain, it seared through her mind with a cleansing flame, exorcising her demons. She held onto consciousness by a thread, dimly aware that the woman out there would not stop until bidden. Only someone as experienced as Dane would dare to go so far, or to ask so much of her body. She pushed herself, taking more than she ever had before, until at last her mind began to close, finally purged. Only then did she utter a single word, agreed upon by both of them long ago.

Hearing that word, barely audible, Dane’s voice was so hoarse, the woman wielding the torturous whip pulled herself up short. She shook her head, realizing she had been delivering her blows in a near frenzy. She was amazed for a moment to realize how nearly out of control she had become. She gazed at Dane’s figure, slumped within the confines of her restraints, and felt a begrudging respect for her. It was only her own practiced discipline which had guided her during the last few minutes, and her considerable skill with the cat that had prevented the whip from flaying Dane’s back open. Still, she knew that the deeper, delicate blood vessels had broken open. Dane’s back was a mass of welts, already beginning to darken from the blood pooling in the wounded tissue beneath the skin. Dane had been silent throughout, as she always was, and her master for the moment could not help but admire her.

Her head clear once more, the woman dropped the whip and strode quickly across the room. She released her restraints and laid Dane not ungently on the floor. She checked Dane’s pulse, finding it steady and strong, and removed the hood. She left Dane there to find her own way out whenever she regained consciousness.

The highway flashed beneath Kyle’s headlights as the bike raced into the darkness. She drove the treacherous, twisting road by second nature, fleeing from her uncertainty without thought to her destination. When she pulled off the road, gravel flew behind her rear tire and the bike only stayed upright as a result of its own momentum. There were cars lining both sides of the long drive and lights blazing everywhere in the elegant house on the hilltop. She ground the bike to a halt, taking a long breath. She avoided the brightly-lit front door and went around to the rear, seeking the relative comfort of the shadows there.

It wasn’t until she had mounted the steps to the deck that she saw the figures embracing in the semi-darkness. A woman pulled away from her partner at the sound of Kyle’s step.

“Jesus, Kyle! Is that you?” Nancy cried.

Kyle halted quickly. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

Nancy pushed the young man with her toward the house. “Go inside,” she whispered. She took Kyle’s arm and pulled her across the deck, away from the crowds just inside. “What are you doing here?”

Kyle slumped against the railing. “I don’t know.”

Nancy took her friend’s arm. “Never mind. Are you all right? What happened?”

Kyle laughed without humor. “Nance, I don’t know. Everything is crazy. Is there anything to drink?”

Nancy searched Kyle’s face with concern. “Of course. Come inside.”

“No,” Kyle said quickly. “I didn’t mean to crash your party.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Nancy said in exasperation. “It’s a bore, anyway.”

Kyle laughed again, this time meaning it. “I could tell.”

“Oh, him. Just a diversion. Roger is deep in some heavy conversation somewhere. Sit down. I’ll be right back.”

Kyle sighed and lowered herself gratefully into one of the deck chairs. The moon was out, and the surf pounded somewhere far below. She closed her eyes, not wanting to think about anything.

“Here,” Nancy said, settling herself at the foot of Kyle’s chair. “Drink.”

Kyle reached for the glass and smiled at Nancy. “Thanks.”

They sat close together for a while in the moonlight. Finally, Nancy placed her hand on Kyle’s arm.

“So, what happened? Did your discussion group turn into a free-for-all?”

Kyle smiled. “No. It was fine. I went to the bar afterwards and there it turned into—I’m not sure what. Dane was there, and she seemed fine when we were dancing! But then Brad turned up and everyone got uptight. And then Dane stormed off, and Brad came onto me, and…” her voice trailed off.

“My, my. Sounds like fun,” Nancy said with the merest trace of envy. “Who’s Dane? And who is Brad? I thought you’d quit men.”

Kyle laughed, drinking deeply of her wine. “Dane is the woman I told you about—the one I met last month. And Brad is a woman, too.”

Nancy leaned back against Kyle’s knee and sighed. “Clearly, I missed the real party. So why did you dash madly out here?”

“Because everything went to hell. Something was going on and I didn’t know what. Dane turned into ice as soon as Brad showed up, and Brad was—”