shadowland

by Radclyffe

  “An attendant.” Brad brought her mouth close to Nancy’s ear, enjoying her decidedly female scent. “She’ll help with the scene. The top will tell her what she wants done or what equipment she needs.”

  “Fun job,” Nancy muttered dryly. Brad chuckled, and her warm breath caused Nancy to shiver.

  In response to a quick nod from the top, the attendant directed the submissive to the scaffold and efficiently secured her ankles to the strategically placed hooks with soft loops of leather. Then the top handed the brunette a key, and she released the wrist cuffs, raised the hooded woman’s arms higher up on the frame, and bound each wrist to it with the short lengths of chain. When finished, she stepped away, unobtrusively awaiting her next instruction.

  Kyle stirred uneasily, uncertain about witnessing what was obviously to come. Even though these women had chosen a public forum to act out their desires, she still felt like an interloper in something that should be private. And she wasn’t at all sure that she wanted to watch one woman inflict pain on another, even when it was consensual. As much as she enjoyed the idea of expressing emotional dynamics through physical demonstration, she found neither the delivery nor the acceptance of punishment arousing. With Dane the exchange of power had been very real and very erotic—she could still feel the surge of excitement at being restrained—but she’d had no need or desire to experience pain.

  She brushed Brad’s shoulder to get her attention. “Is this for real?”

  Dark eyes flashing with sardonic amusement, Brad shifted closer and pressed her thigh along the length of Kyle’s. “You tell me, Kyle. What is real?”

  Unsure how to reply, Kyle was drawn back to the haunting tableau on the stage. The pressure of Brad’s thigh, added to the memory of her night with Dane and the inexorable sexual stimulation of everything that was happening around her, was having an undeniable effect. Despite herself, she was throbbing and wet, and she struggled to ignore the insistent pressure mounting between her legs.

  “Do you know them?” she asked at last, hoping her voice sounded steady.

  “Seen them before.” Brad placed her hand gently on Kyle’s tightly muscled leg. It might have been a casual, friendly gesture, but her touch was just a little too purposeful to be anything other than possessive. As her fingers trailed lightly up and down the rough denim, she answered, “The dominant and submissive are a couple. The attendant is a friend of theirs, maybe a sometime lover, too.”

  “Why are they doing this—up there, I mean. It seems...” Kyle’s stomach tightened as the steady rhythm of Brad’s hand sent shivers racing along her spine, and then she forgot her words of protest as the top directed the attendant to open a large canvas bag. Behind the two, silhouetted in shadow, the hooded woman remained silent, suspended by her arms.

  “They want us to see because our pleasure heightens theirs,” Brad murmured, her eyes fixed on the scene, her fingers sweeping up and down Kyle’s thigh. “Don’t disappoint them.”

  The room was eerily quiet as all eyes focused on the stage. The attendant drew out a short, stout-handled crop from which dangled many long, thin strands of leather, and, keeping her gaze down, held it out. The top walked deliberately to her and took it with a quiet murmur. Nodding, the attendant stepped out of the light, leaving the two lovers alone in the center of the stage.

  Kyle jerked when the top arched her arm and the sharp crack of the whip broke the silence. The bound woman stiffened with the blow, but still she made no sound.

  “Jesus,” Nancy breathed in surprise, leaning across Brad to grab Kyle’s arm. “Let me have a cigarette, will you?”

  “I thought you quit.” Kyle’s voice was hoarse and tight. Nevertheless, she shook one out of the pack on the table with hands that trembled, passed it to her friend, and flicked her lighter to the tip. When she shifted position to reach Nancy, Brad leaned in to her more closely and simultaneously slid her hand higher. Kyle caught her breath in surprise at the sudden increase in pressure against her already straining flesh, and her stomach rolled. She bit back a moan. “What are you doi—”

  The crop arced a second time, and Kyle forced herself not to jump again. Brad cupped her lightly now, her hand an unrelenting presence against the material stretched tightly across her crotch. The touch was so intense that Kyle felt naked. Senses on overload, she didn’t think to move Brad’s hand, even though the attentions were uninvited. She couldn’t look away from the stage.

  The lash continued to rise and fall, accompanied by the sharp snap of leather through air heavy with excitement, and it was another minute until Kyle realized that the stinging blows were actually falling against the bound woman’s leather-covered hips rather than her bare back. Still, the effect was staggering. The act of dominance was real; the act of submission, no matter how staged, was real. The absence of true physical punishment was immaterial. The scene had been set, the roles defined. The stark declaration of power exchanged was inescapable and compelling. Kyle stared, transfixed, her mind clouded with lust. With every fall of the lash her pulse quickened; her clitoris twitched in response to Brad’s repetitive strokes.

  “Stop,” she choked out, unable to bear the enticing promise of Brad’s touch any longer. Breathing hard, she pulled back in her seat, easing herself away from the exquisite torture. Eyes slightly unfocused, she looked into Brad’s face and saw her supremely satisfied smile. “Move...your hand.”

  With a smile that was almost gentle, Brad softly stroked the line of Kyle’s jaw with one long, delicate finger. “You all right?”

  “Fine.” Kyle shivered, a part of her wanting nothing more than for Brad to continue touching her, to take her over that edge and make her come. She was so agonizingly close. She inched further away. Her body might have short-circuited, but her brain still worked. Barely. “Just...don’t.”

  “Keep watching.” Unperturbed by Kyle’s resistance, Brad leaned back in her seat, but not before she squeezed Kyle’s crotch one more time. “There’s more.”

  The scene continued for what seemed like hours, the crop falling in metrical cadence, slicing with dizzying speed through the cone of light that isolated the central figures. The bound woman silently endured the blows, her body straining with each strike. Finally, as precipitously as it had begun, the punishment stopped. The attendant moved quickly out of the darkness and deftly released the restraints, supporting the submissive with an arm around her naked waist as she led her to where the top waited. As the attendant slipped away, the top released the straps at the back of the woman’s hood and pulled it off. She ran her fingers gently over the woman’s damp face, then dropped her hands to the submissive’s shoulders and pushed her to her knees. Once kneeling, the submissive eagerly pressed her face to the vee between the standing woman’s legs and wrapped both arms tightly around her. She guided the top’s slowly thrusting hips against her mouth until the standing woman threw back her head and shuddered with orgasm.

  Someone at the table groaned.

  Mesmerized, Kyle hadn’t realized she was holding her breath or that Brad had returned her hand until the quiet voice behind her caused her to exhale explosively and jerk back to awareness.

  “You never give up, do you, Brad?”

  Three heads turned as one toward the woman behind them. Dane stood looking down at them, cold fury turning her eyes to steel. Kyle noted the quick smile on Brad’s face.

  “Did you expect me to?” Brad smiled thinly and motioned to the fourth place at the small round table. “Join us. I’m sure there’s more entertainment to come.”

  Dane hesitated briefly before deciding that Brad would not best her so easily. She sat on the opposite side of the table from Brad, between Nancy and Kyle, her eyes sweeping over Kyle’s face without a trace of emotion. She’d seen Kyle shift away from Brad a moment before, but not before she’d also witnessed Brad’s hand against the damp fabric of Kyle’s crotch. Kyle’s dark eyes were still hazy with arousal and Dane’s insides churned knowing that Brad had put that look in Kyle’
s eyes.

  Nancy broke the silence by standing up. “I could use another drink. Kyle?”

  Kyle nodded gratefully. “Please.”

  “And what are you drinking, Dane?” Nancy asked.

  Dane stared at Nancy in surprise, wondering how the attractive brunette knew her name. “Scotch.”

  “I’ll just get us all a refill.” Nancy rested her hand on Brad’s shoulder. “Want to help carry?”

  Brad grinned and rose. “I’m always ready to help a lady.”

  In the awkward vacuum that remained when the two women left, Kyle studied Dane, who had still not met her gaze. Released now from the hypnotic pull of the scene, she was beginning to think clearly again, although her body still pounded with arousal. After another long moment, tired of the tension and confused by Dane’s icy behavior, she asked warily, “What’s going on?”

  “Don’t you know?” Dane spat out. Jesus, she practically had you coming in your pants at the table!

  “No, damn it, I don’t,” Kyle replied angrily. She shook her head in frustration. “You were angry last night, and you’re still angry.”

  Finally, Dane looked at her, and she couldn’t prevent her expression from softening. Kyle’s intensity, and her honesty, were impossible to resist. “Sorry. I guess you couldn’t be expected to understand. It’s something between Brad and me.”

  “I gathered that. But what has it got to do with me?”

  “I’m not sure,” Dane confessed, suddenly almost too tired to continue. Her body ached; her heart ached; and, always, there was Brad—reminding her of the dark roads she had traveled and how easily she could lose herself there again. “Brad just seems to keep turning up in my life—just when I think I’m rid of her.”

  “I don’t understand. Maybe someday you’ll tell me.” Kyle’s tone was compassionate because she sensed Dane’s turmoil and pain. “But don’t put me in the middle of it. I’m not the enemy, and I don’t want to be.”

  “Then what do you want?” Dane’s eyes flashed with renewed emotion. “Brad?”

  “I don’t even know Brad,” Kyle protested.

  “You don’t know me either.”

  “You’re right. But I’ve touched you.” Kyle leaned across the table, her fingers brushing Dane’s hand where it lay fisted on the battered surface. “I’ve held you and been held by you. I’ve trusted you with my body—with my feelings. To me, at least, that counts for something.”

  Dane regarded Kyle in wonder. “Does it?”

  “Yes.”

  “You let her touch you.” Dane couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice. If she hadn’t been so beaten down, physically and emotionally, she never would have admitted that she cared who Kyle fucked, or who she let fuck her. “Christ, she was about to make you come.”

  “Maybe. But I didn’t intend for any of that to happen.” Kyle refused to apologize, but she wanted Dane to understand. “I got caught up in what was happening...” She gestured toward the stage. “Up there. I...I was a little crazy watching it...”

  Dane nodded despite her anger. “Yeah. That happens.”

  “When I could think past my hormones, I told her to stop.”

  “Fuck,” Dane muttered, rubbing her face and leaning back in her chair with a sigh. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

  “I know,” Kyle answered, “but you should know that what got me started was thinking about you. That’s all I’ve been doing since that night we were together.”

  “Yeah?” Dane’s voice dropped. “So what do you want to do about that?”

  Before Kyle could answer, Nancy and Brad returned with drinks. As they sat down again, Nancy sidled close to Brad, and Kyle sensed that Brad’s attention had been diverted during the drink run. She barely glanced at Kyle or Dane.

  “Well,” Nancy said, taking a large swallow of her drink, “wonderful party. I’m so sorry I’m not properly dressed.” She looked mischievously at Kyle. “Leather pants would have been so nice!”

  “You look just fine,” Brad murmured.

  Nancy smiled brilliantly and rested her fingertips on Brad’s wrist while looking at Kyle. “I’ve talked Brad into giving me a tour of those intriguing rooms in the back. Want to come?”

  “I’ll pass,” Kyle said quickly. I don’t want to be anywhere near another scene with Brad.

  Dane gave Brad a hard stare. “Look, Brad—”

  “No need to worry, Dane,” Brad said lightly. “Nancy will be quite safe with me.”

  “Oh, leave them.” Nancy rose, pulling Brad’s arm. “They’re no fun.”

  Brad shrugged as if to say “What can I do?” and allowed herself to be led away by the hand.

  “Oh, boy,” Kyle said, watching her friend disappear. “That’s Nancy.”

  “She okay?” Dane asked.

  “Ordinarily, she can take care of herself. But tonight?” Kyle just shook her head. “I’m not sure she knows what she’s looking for.”

  “Well,” Dane expelled a long breath, “I can guarantee she has no idea what she’s getting with Brad.”

  They sat in silence, a silence that intensified until Dane leaned forward.

  “I want you to come upstairs with me.”

  Kyle studied her—the fierce eyes, the chiseled features, the simmering emotions. She remembered tenderness and power and just a little danger. She remembered the freedom of being led down paths new to her, but not foreign. She remembered Dane trembling in the aftermath of orgasm, helpless and, for an instant, hers.

  “Yes.”

  *

  When Nancy stepped through the doorway into the surprisingly wide hallway beyond, she slowed, suddenly uncertain. It was nearly black, much darker than the large main room had been, and the air was warmer, thicker, heavy with the scent of arousal.

  “Come over here,” Brad murmured and moved against one wall, pulling Nancy back against her. She slid her arms around Nancy’s waist from behind, settled Nancy’s hips in the bend of her own abdomen and thighs, and nestled her cheek in the curve of Nancy’s neck. Her lips brushed Nancy’s ear when she spoke. “Just watch.”

  While Nancy waited for her eyes to adjust to the gloom, she was acutely aware of the firm prominence against her buttocks and saw again the unmistakable form nestled along Brad’s thigh. Brad’s hand, the fingers splayed wide, rested on her abdomen just below her breasts. Nancy could feel the heat of that hand through her clothes and astonishingly, felt arousal flow in response. She was no stranger to anonymous sex, but lately the couplings had left her not only unsatisfied, but often had failed even to excite her. Nevertheless, she was used to being in control. Determined to maintain the upper hand, she shifted her hips suggestively into Brad’s body as she slowly became aware of the activity around her. Then, she couldn’t prevent a small gasp of surprise.

  Behind her, Brad chuckled and softly kissed her neck.

  Across from where they stood, two women reclined on a small sofa in a recessed alcove. One lay on her back, her head lolling against the upholstered arm as the other woman knelt between her open thighs, bringing her to orgasm with her mouth.

  “God,” Nancy whispered, giving an involuntary start. The figures were indistinct, their features pale and fluid in the murky light. Nevertheless, she could see that the woman being ministered to was about to come. Her spine was arched, her left hand clenched on the edge of the sofa while her right stroked fitfully through her lover’s hair. Nancy could hear her soft moans.

  “She knows you’re watching,” Brad whispered. “She wants you to feel her come.”

  A hot flush coursed through Nancy’s body, and she was suddenly dizzy. She imagined being in the woman’s place; she imagined the hard urgency in the pit of her stomach as she climbed toward climax; she imagined the stroke of a firm tongue and the pull of soft lips on her screaming flesh. She flashed on Kyle’s face and imagined her friend as the source of her pleasure. Trembling, she found Brad’s hand and pushed it down her body toward the terrible need pulsing between her thigh
s.

  “She’d like it if you came with her.” Brad traced her lips along the curve of Nancy’s ear. She resisted the pressure on her wrist and raised her hand instead to Nancy’s breast, finding the hard knot of nipple through the blouse. When she squeezed, Nancy arched in her arms.

  “Please,” Nancy choked. She turned her head until her mouth was against Brad’s neck. “Please touch me.”

  “Touch yourself.” Brad brought her other hand to the opposite breast and worked both nipples steadily, keeping Nancy upright when she felt her sag from the onslaught.

  Nancy’s body burned and her mind was a confusion of sensation—desperate arousal undercut with anger. Brad had stolen her control, her ultimate weapon, and despite the painful demands of her body for release, she would not give Brad the satisfaction of dominating her. She would not. With one hand, she reached back and pressed her palm between Brad’s thighs, closing her fingers over the swelling she found there. Through the mists of her own wild need, she heard Brad gasp.

  “You’re used to leading men around by their dicks,” Brad grated, ignoring the exquisite pressure against her screaming nerve endings. First touching Kyle, now Nancy, had fueled her own excitement to the point where was she poised to explode. Nevertheless, she steadied her breathing and, with supreme effort, kept her voice from trembling as Nancy continued to massage her. “You won’t be able to do that with me.”

  “I know...you like it,” Nancy gasped. Across from her, the woman reared up, screaming as she came. Nancy almost climaxed just from witnessing her pleasure.

  “You’re right.” Brad shifted from behind Nancy until she was standing next to her, one arm still around Nancy’s waist, her own back to the wall. She dropped her free hand, unzipped her fly, and in a practiced move, extracted the phallus. She gripped it, warm and pliant from the heat of her body, in the palm of her hand. “I like it very much.”

  When Nancy reached for it, Brad caught her wrist and held her hand away. “No.”

  To Nancy’s stunned amazement, Brad gestured instead to a stranger who had stopped in front of them to stare. Without a word being spoken, the woman dropped to her knees and took Brad into her mouth. When Nancy looked down, all she could see were the familiar motions of an act she had performed countless times herself, but this time it held a fascination she had never experienced. The act was real, powerfully so, and she heard Brad’s breath catch on a groan as her hips jerked. The sound sliced through Nancy like a knife.