Rayne began
showing me the work she did in her dungeon. At first I was more than a
little nervous as I watched her at play. One day as I watched her
working over one of her pets I couldn’t stop from thinking that this
woman was a force to behold.
She taught me more about the
“lifestyle,” although I’m still no expert on it. This is because Rayne
and Kim were in a subgenre of BDSM—something they called edge play. Edge
play was kinky and pain, humiliation, and power were the focus. They
actually had a community where the only true restrictions included
anything illegal. It was not unheard of to see people get turned on by
needles, pretend to be pets, or enjoy severe humiliation.
Rayne and
Kim explained that not everyone has the same kink, but you respected
that subs were here because they chose to be and not because they were
forced to. In fact every sub had a contract that explained their desires
and their limitations. Their discretion was one of the reasons she kept
her office private.
This was the type of relationship that Kim
desired from Rayne—I know because Rayne had shown me her contract. I
learned that the relationship between Rayne and Kim was successful
because Kim desired not only to sub but also to relinquish her control
and place it with someone who she trusted and loved. There was no
exploitation in that. I signed a contract, too, agreeing that I accept
this lifestyle as my own and that no one had forced me into it. It was
standard in all of the contracts. Including the one that Rayne had
signed. She allowed me to look at her list of desires and I met her
eyes when I saw that she had admitted to a desire to be subbed,
restrained, and forced.
The contracts of Rayne’s pets generally
included a desire to be humiliated. Any sympathy I may have felt at a
man’s cries for mercy became short lived once I recalled that they had
put in writing that this is what they wanted. Rayne’s job was to allow
them to get lost in their individual desires—and therefore there was a
lot of screaming involved. And yet they always returned for more.
One such pet was one of the guys who helped move me from my apartment.
His name was Mitch, and his particular thing seemed to be getting
spanked and tied down. Mitch was a simple five-eight man with brown
hair. He was rather unremarkable other than he made a lot of money as a
stockbroker … and he was able to tolerate an absurd amount of pain.
I
was impressed at her skills. She knew just when to stop so she didn’t
inflict permanent damage. He would cry and whimper as she paddled him,
and the sound of it had become familiar.
It was intriguing in the
way Rayne handled Mitch after the session when he was in tears and
blubbering. She would cuddle him like a mother with her child. He would
sob his thanks to her, and she would soothe him with soft words while
his head rested against her breasts. It didn’t make me jealous to see
her cuddling him like that. It actually taught me that aftercare
consisted of more than just taking care of the outside. Mitch required
the soothing to his emotions just as much as he required the extensive
pain that he seemed able to endure. After spending time in the dungeon
watching Rayne, I came to realize this was indeed an art form and that
Rayne was a master artist...Warning: Graphic sex and language. Adult readers only
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