They got the last animal and headed back for the final entry. They were almost there when Caroline rushed up to them.

“Oh, babe!” she cried, hugging Anne fiercely, “I’m so sorry! We left early this morning, and the damn jeep broke down. What a mess!”

Anne kissed her quickly, her face glowing. “It’s okay. Kyle saved the day!”

Caroline turned quickly to thank her. She stopped when she realized Dane had joined them. Kyle was staring at Dane, her face pale. Anne tugged Caroline away toward the ring.

Kyle searched Dane’s face. She looked thinner. There were lines about her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Her gaze were clear, but so distant! There was no trace of warmth in the blue eyes that glanced over her, no tenderness in her smile.

Finally Kyle found her voice. “Hello, Dane.”

Dane shifted her gaze, unable to bear the sadness she saw in Kyle’s face.

“Thank you for helping Anne. I’m afraid she’s had to do too much alone these past few weeks,” she said finally.

“She seems to have managed very well,” Kyle replied. “She’s really quite good at all this.”

“I know,” Dane said quietly. She cleared her throat and forced herself to face Kyle again.

“Kyle,” she began with difficulty, “about the last time we met. I’m sorry about what happened. I’m afraid I blew our scene.”

“My god, Dane,” Kyle gasped in amazement, “do you think I care a damn about that? Do I have to tell you how much more than that you mean to me?” Her voice pleaded for Dane to hear her, her eyes searching the rigid planes of Dane’s handsome face for some sign that she felt anything for her.

Dane shook her head, her expression betraying none of her inner turmoil. How much she wanted to say she was sorry she had failed her. And how ashamed she was.

“I got your message,” she said woodenly. “You must know you deserve better. I’m sorry you had to find it out quite like that.” She hated to think that Kyle had seen her like that, so pitifully weak. She looked away.

“Damn it, Dane!” Kyle started to protest. This was ridiculous. She needed to make Dane understand how much she cared about her.

Dane interrupted her. “Tell Caroline and Anne I’m taking the jeep back to the kennel.” As she turned away she said, “Good-bye, Kyle.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

SLOWLY KYLE’S PAIN and frustration turned to a seething anger, feeding on itself, threatening to consume her. She sometimes didn’t see anyone for weeks. Nancy turned up at the shop erratically, often leaving again without completing much work. They rarely talked, and even when they did, they avoided all mention of their personal lives.

Kyle stopped going to the discussion groups. When Caroline called to ask about her absence, Kyle replied bitterly that she’d heard all there was to hear. She knew Caroline was worried about her, but Kyle gave her no room to talk. Finally, Caroline stopped calling.

Eventually Kyle began to go to Leather’s again. She stared at the women around her, feeling none of the old sense of communion she once shared with them. Nothing stirred her heart. She reached out to no one. Late one night she saw Dane across the room. She was ensconced in her old place by the jukebox, looking aloof and distant. She glanced at Kyle once, briefly, her face betraying no recognition. Kyle was forced to turn her back, so exquisite was the pain. When the anguish dissipated, the steely anger returned. She had to erase the lingering image of Dane’s face from her mind. She ordered another beer and looked over the crowd. She carefully avoided Dane’s small corner of the arena. Her attention focused finally on a young woman standing alone, her back against a pillar. When her eyes fell on Kyle, who was staring at her pointedly, she looked quickly away. Kyle smiled slightly to herself and lit a cigarette. She smoked leisurely, finished her beer and ordered two more. She carried them both unhurriedly through the crowd until she was at the young woman’s side. Up close she could see that she was indeed young. Her smooth features were unlined, and her blond hair fell in childlike wings about her forehead and temples. She continued to stare ahead, waiting for Kyle to initiate contact.

Kyle handed her the beer. “Yours is warm,” she said in a low voice.

The woman immediately tossed her half-empty bottle into the receptacle behind her and took the cold one Kyle offered.

“Thank you,” she replied.

Kyle smiled slightly and ran her finger lightly down the young woman’s exposed forearm, stopping at the thin black leather band which circled her wrist.

“Are you serious about this?” Kyle said softly, hooking her finger under the bracelet. She realized she was enjoying this new approach, even though emotionally she felt detached.

“Yes.”

Kyle slipped her hand beneath the edge of her companion’s jeans at the hollow of her spine. The muscles there tensed at her touch.

“I need to know your name,” Kyle said, gently kneading the firm flesh under her hands. When she felt the young woman hesitate, she thought she understood.

“Any name, it doesn’t matter.” Kyle realized that it didn’t. She didn’t need or want to know anything about the woman other than what was necessary to complete the scene. Kyle wasn’t interested in her as a person, beyond the roles they would both soon play.

“It’s Jean.”

Kyle nodded, leaning into Jean, her thighs insistent against the smaller woman’s hips.

“Well, Jean, are you tired of the bar tonight?”

“I’ve seen everything I need to. Now that you’re here.”

“I’d like to take your clothes off, somewhere quiet and private. There might be other things I’d like to do.” Kyle was going by instinct now, playing out a fantasy which was somehow real. She was vaguely aware that she was not really physically aroused, but still she was excited. She was excited to be in control, to be creating the events moment to moment. “Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Jean replied. “May I make one request?”

Kyle nodded.

“Please don’t mark me.”

Kyle hid the shock she felt. For an instant she saw Dane again, lying on Caroline’s bed, her back a river of ruin. She felt physically ill.

“I agree,” Kyle said after a moment.

She drove to Jean’s apartment with Jean clinging to her on the rear of the big motorcycle. Once there, Kyle directed Jean to take them to her bedroom, leaving the lights off. Kyle lit a bedside candle with a flick of her lighter. She undressed Jean herself, slowly and carefully. She turned her about in the flickering light, stroking her body, studying her reaction. She could tell the younger woman was excited—she trembled at each light caress of Kyle’s exploring hands.

When Kyle had satisfied herself visually, she placed Jean face down on the bed, removing the pillow to be sure she could breathe.

“You’ll need a safe word. Anytime you want me to stop, or something happens which hurts you in a way you don’t like, you must tell me,” Kyle said gently as she removed the heavy belt from her leather pants. She bound Jean’s hands securely to the upper part of the bed frame as Jean told her safe word. By doing so she entered into a contract of trust with Kyle. She trusted Kyle to respect her limitations, her boundaries, regardless of how Kyle might feel. And Kyle, in turn, trusted Jean to be the guardian of her own body. Only Jean could know when her limits had been reached.

“May I give you something?” Jean asked quietly.

Kyle leaned back from the bed. “Yes.”

Kyle opened the closet and looked where Jean had described. She removed a short-handled crop with multiple fine leather strands at the end. Her heart plummeted when she closed her hand around it. She knew Jean was asking her to use it on her, and she wasn’t sure she could. She found it more and more difficult to look at Jean’s naked back without seeing Dane, again and again. She knew the scene was hers; she could refuse. But she also knew that there was Jean’s pleasure to be considered. The top’s responsibility, ultimately, was to create a scene which both partners would find pleasurable, within acceptable limits for them both.

She started with the stout handle, the leather strands entwined in her fingers. Slowly she traced each muscle, each bone in Jean’s back and shoulders with the edge. She could hear Jean gasp at each new contact. Suddenly Kyle realized that in this instance it was the suggestion of pain, the illusion of power, which was so erotic, rather than the actual infliction of punishment. She began to relax a little and found that she was enjoying the sense of power Jean had given her. When she finally did use the crop for what it was intended, she wielded it gently, causing no real discomfort. The effect, however, was instantaneous. Jean responded to each light blow with a soft groan, and her hips moved against the bed convulsively. When Kyle judged that Jean was near to the peak of her arousal, she straddled her body, one of her leather encased thighs between Jean’s naked ones. She slipped one hand beneath Jean’s pelvis seeking the moisture she knew she would find. She brought her other hand in from the rear and completed the circle. She was inside and outside of her at once, controlling Jean’s body to the very end. When at last Jean came with a shuddering groan, Kyle felt her own pent-up tensions dissipate. She felt no need to reach orgasm herself; it was enough that Jean had. Her own body seemed removed from the scene. Indeed, the excitement had primarily been the feeling of power she drew from the encounter. When she left, Jean was asleep.

Kyle quickly discovered that what she had always heard was true. Experienced tops were always in demand. Ruefully, she found that she no longer had to search for partners. Whenever she entered the bar, someone was more than willing to accompany her home. She developed considerable skill in creating and controlling a scene. She learned to recognize what excited another woman by the way she responded to Kyle’s first advances. Kyle quickly came to appreciate the subtle signals which indicated the degree of a woman’s experience and the level of control she would give to Kyle. To her amazement, she found she was becoming quite accomplished with a variety of crops and whips. Her unease at being the source of physical pain abated as long as she was sure her partner found pleasure in it, and Kyle trusted the woman to know her own limits. Kyle had no desire to abuse or humiliate anyone. She never went with anyone young or inexperienced, and she never used drugs in association with a scene. She was even careful not to drink too much so she could be sure she never lost control.