Scene One
THE THRESHOLD
Devon saw Sarah standing alone at the bar in Club Envision, a new face he had not seen before.
She was trying not to be obvious, but the dress she was wearing that night wasn’t exactly subtle.
He approached her and introduced himself: “Hi, I am Devon.” “Sarah,” she responded as she stood there looking at him.
He didn't touch her. That was the first thing she noticed — that a man could stand this close and not touch, and that the not-touching could feel like a hand wrapped around her throat.
"You came alone," he said. Not a question.
"Is that — am I not supposed to?" "You're supposed to do whatever you came here to do.
" He let that sit. "The trouble is, you don't know what that is yet.
Do you?" She opened her mouth to argue and found she had nothing to say.
Around them, the room kept moving —low light, music, the murmur of people who belonged here, most of them without clothing, or wearing something sensual, sexy, and see-through — and she had the sudden sense of standing at the edge of water deeper than she'd judged from the shore.
"Tell me what you're afraid of?" he said.
"Not the polite version. The real one. We don't go anywhere until I have it.
" "I don't —" She stopped. He was watching her with a patience that felt worse than impatience would have—impatience gives you something to disappoint, and a disappointment is an exit.
"Looking stupid. Not knowing what I'm doing.
" "That one's free. Everyone here was new once.
" He tilted his head. "Again. The real one. " Her face went hot.
"That I'll like it." It came out smaller than she meant it to.
"More than I'm supposed to. That I will end up craving the depth of someone controlling my body, and using me for their sheer pleasure.” Something moved behind his eyes — not a smile, but something from a darker place inside him.
Primal. Thirsty. Craving. Like he has been drowning, and she is the life source he needs to survive.
She has never seen that look before. It both frightened her and turned her on.
The area between her thighs had already started getting wet.
The slickness sliding down her legs, like the juice of a Georgia peach does in the summertime, as she stood there in a black dress that didn't leave much to the imagination.
She had decided to forego panties tonight.
That was her small way of facing some of her fears this evening.
"There it is," he said. "That's the one we're going to use.
" She felt the words land somewhere low and unfamiliar in her stomach.
"Here's how this works," he went on, and his voice had changed — still quiet, but with a floor under it now.
"I'm going to tell you what I want to do.
You're going to tell me where it stops. Not because I need permission to be gentle — because, and listen very closely, I'm not going to be gentle, and I want to know the edges before I get near them.
" "And if I want it to stop after that?" she asked.
"Then you say red, and everything ends. Not slows. Ends."
He held her eyes until she nodded. "Say it back to me.
" "Red," she repeated. "Good girl." Those two words did something to her she'd have to think about later, but the burning ache low in her stomach and the wetness between her thighs were already giving her an answer.
"That's the only power you have in here, and it's absolute.
Everything else, for as long as you let it, is mine.
Do you understand the trade?" She did. That was the frightening part — that she understood it completely, and that her body had already decided she wanted to forget her edges before her mind had finished objecting.
"I asked you a question." "Yes," she said.
"Yes, what?" Not unkind. Testing the weight she could carry.
She swallowed. "Yes. I understand it." He placed his hand at the small of her back, not exactly touching, but she could feel the heat of his hand on her skin, and he guided her to a room.
Once inside, he stepped closer — still not touching, but close enough that she had to tip her chin up.
"You see the glass," he said, nodding toward the long dark pane along one wall.
"You remember all those people in the room out there?
They can see in, but you can't see out. “They can?” she asked.
She turned. Her own reflection looked back — flushed, uncertain, smaller than she felt.
"Everyone?" “Yes, everyone will be able to see you and how your body and mind react to me and the things I am going to do and say to you.
Mostly, it is those people who want to learn to let go; the way you have chosen to tonight.
The ones who stand on that side aren't ready to be on this side yet.
" He watched her understand it. "So tonight you're going to teach them something.
You're going to show them what it looks like when someone finds out what they are.
What they are made of. And exactly what they are willing to let go of to feel free.
In front of an audience you can't see." A beat.
"That's the part you'll think about later.
Not being watched. Being watched and not knowing by whom. "
She felt the heat climb her throat. The fear from before — that I'll like it more than I'm supposed to — came back doubled, because now there were eyes on the liking.
"Last thing," he said. "I'm going to say things to you tonight you've never let anyone say.
Things that, if said by someone else, might make you cringe.
You're going to feel like you should be insulted.
Pay attention to whether you actually are.
" His voice dropped. "Because I think you already know you won't be.
And I think that's the thing that scares you.
" Then, close to her ear: "They're on the other side of that glass, learning what a yes looks like.
So show them. Don't perform it. Mean it. Let them see the difference."
Devon placed Sarah in the middle of the room.
She glanced around and noticed different toys she had no idea what they were used for, but in the back of her mind, she couldn’t wait to find out…
in due time. She watched as Devon unbuttoned his shirt; just three buttons, as he circled her like she was his prey for the evening.
“Sarah, do you remember the rules we discussed before coming in here?” “Yes,” she replied.
“Do you still consent to this evening, keeping those rules in mind, and knowing that one word will stop everything without question?” “Yes, I do.” He came around to the front of her and looked into her eyes.
She swore they were blue, but now they looked like they were full of gold and ready to devour her at any moment.
“Kneel, whore.” he said. He didn’t yell it, but the tone in his voice told Sarah he meant it.
She hesitated for a second, long enough for him to open his mouth to say it again, then she knelt in front of him.
He grinned slightly, something flashing in his eyes.
“Good girl,” he said. “You come into a place like this acting like you don’t know what you want, but I could see the slick moisture from your pussy dripping down your thighs when I was walking towards you.
” She could feel the heat rising and her face turning red.
“You know what you want,” he said. “You just don’t know how to ask for it.
I bet a cumslut like you loves to gag on cocks of all sizes.
” Something started burning deep in her core.
She couldn’t figure out how he could read her so easily, but at that moment, she was thinking about his hard cock she could see straining behind the khaki pants he was wearing.
“I enjoy breaking whore’s like you. Listening to you beg like a pathetic slut is like feeding a starving beast.” She tilted her head down, and instantly he snatched her chin and made her look up.
“Do not break eye contact with me. Remember that all those people are watching you, and you are going to teach them how to be a very good girl. Or should I say, good cumslut.” There was that grin again, and that flash in his eyes.
“Stand up,” he said. She did immediately, and he walked around to the back of her.
He ran his fingers down her back, then grabbed the zipper on her dress and pulled it down.
“Take your dress off.” He could tell by her face she wanted to object, but he turned her ever so slightly so she could see the one-way mirror.
“You don’t want to disappoint all those who are watching and learning how to let go tonight, do you?
” She shuddered and slid her dress off. As it hit the floor, he could see her thighs were even more slick and glistening with the nectar from her pussy.
He knelt in front of her, tracing the line of wet with his finger.
Looking up at her, he sucked every drop off the finger he had used, then leaned in and ran his tongue up and down each thigh.
Not leaving a trace of her nectar behind.
Sarah’s body was reacting in ways she hadn’t anticipated.
Even though she knew, from what she had looked up about this lifestyle, that what was happening was on the low intensity side, she didn’t expect the burning in her core, her pussy dripping down her thighs, and the intense throbbing in her clit, as a man called her names and told her what to do.
She could stop everything with one word.
What she couldn’t figure out was why she didn’t want to.
The scene with Devon only lasted 30 minutes.
When it was over, she couldn't stop looking at the glass.
Somewhere behind it, people had watched her become someone she hadn't admitted to being.
She waited to feel ashamed. It didn't come.
"You're wondering why you're not humiliated," he said.
"Exactly." The word left her before she'd decided to say it.
"My mind and my body are both reaching for something deeper than what we did tonight — and I don't understand why.
" Something settled in his face, like a man hearing confirmation of a thing he'd already known.
"You don't have to understand it yet," he said.
"You just have to be honest about it. And you just were.
" He tipped her chin toward the dark pane one last time. "Say goodnight to them."