Kyle moved away from the naked woman before her and pulled out a cigarette. She lit it off the gold lighter in her pocket. She stepped into darkness and selected a small cat from her bag. She knew that Brad could hear her but that she could not see her.

Kyle moved from the shadows to the front edge of the stage, gauging the distance. She tested the cat with a quick flip of her wrist. The snap of the whip sliced the thick air before her, and she noted with satisfaction that Brad flinched at the sound. At first her strokes were teasing, glancing off the contour of Brad’s back and buttocks, stinging for an instant and then gone. As the force and rhythm of Kyle’s delivery increased, Brad twisted slightly in her restraints, seeking to escape. Despite her rising panic, Brad began to be aroused. The tension of the knife ritual, the powerlessness of being restrained, and the tantalizing pinpoints of flickering pain created by the whip were having a sexual effect. Even as she resisted, her body betrayed her, swelling and pulsating to the rhythm of the cat. She moaned slightly, trying to ignore the pressure in her thighs and pelvis. Just as suddenly as it started, those tormenting kisses of fire raining down on her back stopped. She felt deserted, isolated in her desire, bereft of the source of her pleasure. She bit back a cry, a plea for Kyle to continue.

Dane pushed her way past the crowd on the stairs and tossed a bill to the bouncer. As she started to brush past her, the heavyset woman grabbed her arm.

“Just a minute,” the woman said. “There’s a heavy scene going on in there. Take it easy.”

Dane nodded and slowed her headlong rush. Nevertheless, she moved her way insistently through the crowd until she could see the stage. When she did she stopped short, her heart pounding. Kyle stood before Brad’s suspended body, lightly hefting a heavy braided whip. Even in the subdued lighting, Dane could make out the flush on the skin of Brad’s back, indication that Kyle had been working on her a while. As she watched, Kyle’s arm arced, and the cat landed with a smart blow across Brad’s lower back. Dane could barely stifle a moan as she saw Brad’s body jerk away with the intensity of the pain. Instantly, Dane was transported to another dimly lit room, the echo of the leather striking flesh resounding in her own body. She felt herself flinch at each blow; she felt the pain suffuse her mind. She remained motionless, reliving the moment of her own destruction.

At first, Brad fought the pain, determined to withstand any punishment Kyle could deliver. She would not be subdued, she would never give in! But Kyle had primed her well. Kyle had already brought Brad past the point of pain to the beginning of arousal. Even as Brad’s mind rebelled, her body made the inevitable transition from rejection of pain to the acceptance of pleasure. The lash on her back became a soothing caress, the swelling of her injured flesh the blossoming of desire. Her body no longer moved to escape the blows, it sought them, each stroke driving her nearer to orgasm. So close, she was so close to exploding! She forgot her need to resist Kyle’s power—she welcomed it. There was no thought, only sensation. Her mind dissolved into liquid fire as the exquisite ripples of release began building deep in her belly. Brad’s hips began thrusting with the rhythm of the contractions; her neck arched back in rapturous agony. Her moans penetrated the darkest corners of the room.

Kyle’s mind was numb; her eyes blind. She no longer felt the people pressing close to her, she couldn’t hear Brad’s cries. Her arms had become the vehicle for her anger, the whip the embodiment of her own pain. The rhythm of the blows echoed the fury in her heart. At last she could drive the demons from her soul with the power of the cat.

Dane grabbed Kyle’s arm, twisting her off balance. “Kyle!” she shouted. “No!”

Kyle’s glazed eyes fell uncomprehendingly on her face. When Kyle tried to wrench her arm away, Dane brought her other hand down hard on the shaft of the whip.

“Look at her,” Dane cried. “Kyle, look at her! That was me, don’t you see! It could still be me! Don’t do this. Oh god, Kyle, don’t become like them. Don’t do what they did to me!”

Kyle’s vision cleared. She saw Dane’s face before her, wounded but fiercely strong as well. And she looked to Brad, collapsing against her restraints, dangling at the end of her own desires.

She tossed the heavy instrument of torture at Brad’s feet, sick of herself. As she turned away,” she said in a thick voice that echoed throughout the room, “Someone else can have her. I’m done with her.”

As the crowd parted to let them through, she closed her mind to the sound of Brad calling her name.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

KYLE SANK INTO the seat of Dane’s car, exhausted. She didn’t know where they were going—she didn’t care. She had reached the nadir of her despair. A sea of remorse engulfed her. She had become what she most hated—a user of people, an abuser of power. She had indeed become what she loathed most in Brad—a sadist unaffected by another’s suffering. A hand that held the whip without tenderness, without feeling. She had wished only to give pain, no longer seeking the delicate balance between pleasure and the physical boundaries of pain. She had tested herself and she had failed.

Dane watched the emotions play across Kyle’s face, feeling her agony and her guilt. She wanted to reassure her, to tell her that it would pass. Kyle was not lost, not yet. Dane knew only one way to prove it to her, the only way she herself would understand. If she could show Kyle now that she was worthy of Dane’s trust, she could free her. She would give Kyle her body; Kyle already had her heart.

Dane pulled her car up in front of her apartment and went around to open Kyle’s door.

“Please come inside,” Dane said quietly.

Kyle followed her, unprotesting. Dane led her into her bedroom and turned the switch that subtly lit the room. Kyle stood still in the center of the room, remembering the only other time she had been there. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Where along the way had she lost herself?

Dane came to her, her eyes searching Kyle’s face. Kyle stared back, questioningly. Without a word, Dane sank to her knees before Kyle, her hands lightly grasping Kyle’s thighs, her head bowed, supplicant. She pressed her face against the soft leather covering Kyle’s groin. There was no one else in the world she would do this for. There was no one she had ever wanted so much. This was not sex; this was salvation.

Dane began to slide the zipper down, her mouth slightly open to touch the flesh her hands exposed. Suddenly, Kyle grabbed Dane’s hands, pulling her to her feet.

“No,” Kyle said breathlessly. “That’s not what I need.”

“Then tell me,” Dane said. She swallowed, remembering the image of Brad’s humiliation. “Anything.” The ultimate trust.

Kyle shook her head, her eyes locked on Dane’s. “No, Dane. You top me.” Take me back, Dane. Make me yours

Dane turned away, fear and uncertainty twisting in her belly. “I can’t.” How can you trust me when you’ve seen my weakness? How can you put your life in my hands?

“You can,” Kyle said without moving. She waited, scarcely breathing, afraid that Dane would abandon her, leaving her victim to her own demons. Dane was the only point of light in the dark landscape of her soul. Only Dane could lead her out of the night.

“Dane,” she whispered in desperation, “Please. I need you to.” Free me

“By your leave,” Dane whispered, turning to face her. Give me permission

“Yes,” Kyle said softly. “Anything.” I trust you

Dane’s hands were gentle on Kyle’s body as she undressed her, reverent. The restraints she passed around Kyle’s wrists were as soft as satin. Dane stood silently before Kyle, slowly stripping herself bare. She stood boldly, triumphantly, naked before her captive lover. Kyle had given her this power, returning her soul.

When Dane lay down upon her, Kyle ached to enfold her in her arms, but she could not. With her body restrained, her spirit soared, welcoming Dane into every corner of her being. Kyle closed her eyes and knew only the feather-light caresses of Dane’s lips against her skin. Her body surged upward against Dane, seeking to fuse with that which she could not hold. Dane’s hands were on her face, in her hair, enclosing her breasts. Dane’s fingers on her nipples sent currents of pleasure into her already tensely swollen clitoris. Dane’s tongue traced molten patterns of fire down Kyle’s quivering body. She kissed the soft triangle at the base of Kyle’s thighs, never touching the pulsating center of Kyle’s raging desire.

Kyle writhed in search of Dane’s caresses. She whimpered, desperately needing the relief of Dane’s fingers on her clitoris. Finally, she could bear it no longer. “Please,” she begged, “oh god—please, Dane—touch me now.”

Dane lingered for a moment, holding Kyle’s passion like a fragile bird in her hand. When the power of their common desire rose within her, filling her, she lowered her mouth to Kyle’s moist warmth. She brought her slowly to climax, teasingly, tormentingly, until Kyle’s orgasm could no longer be contained. At the moment the wild fluttering beneath her lips turned to pounding spasms, Dane pressed her fingers into her, claiming Kyle completely. Dane’s fulfillment at that moment surpassed any she had ever known. Her tears mingled with Kyle’s essence.

When Kyle quieted, Dane removed the restraints and stretched out beside her, cradling Kyle in her arms. She was satisfied, having consummated her need in Kyle’s pleasure. Kyle had entrusted her with this moment, and she had not failed. She drifted for a while in the first peace she had known in years, until she was surprised into wakefulness by Kyle’s touch on her body.