Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Shawn

Saturday nights at Edge were what I’d come to live for. My life sucked dick Monday through Friday, but Saturday night made everything right. Sundays were my recovery day, and the shit would start all over again on Monday.

This week was particularly shitty because I’d learned my dear ol’ father was running for president this election year. Moving to Canada might be something that I’d seriously have to consider. I’d heard the Toronto area was awesome, and Vancouver was gorgeous. But there was that whole money thing that kept my feet grounded for the most part.

Since leaving home five years ago, I’d been somewhat on the run. I wasn’t about to marry someone; let alone some girl I’d just met. All of that aside, though, the girl’s dad gave off major Mafia vibes. I seriously didn’t think the Mafia existed outside of movie sets, and maybe they didn’t, but it was a chilling situation.

After I left, I crashed at the houses of some of my friends. My parents must have thought it was just a phase and that I’d return. But after four days, my dad sent me a text telling me that I needed to come home right away so the wedding could be arranged. When that text went unanswered, he sent me what I would call a desperation text by saying the girl’s father was someone he couldn’t disappoint. He said if I didn’t return home right away, that this girl’s father and his friends would start looking for me. That was when I felt there was something really off about the guy my dad had struck a deal with. I threw my phone off the Santa Monica Pier and knew I would never go home again.

I’d survived in the beginning by doing odd jobs for cash or in exchange for room and board. I still went to parties with some friends, and it was at a party that a few acquaintances offered me a large sum of cash if I spent the weekend with them in Cancun. They were known kinksters, and I would basically make myself available and be at their beck and call for whatever. I had an incredible time that weekend and earned enough money that I could live off for a while.

But I'd started to get paranoid that I was being watched at the parties in the L.A. and Hollywood areas. It was probably nothing, but I feared this “friend” of my dad’s might really be looking for me.

I decided I needed to get out of the area and went down south to San Diego. My money hadn’t stretched as far as it had in Los Angeles, so I began to look at relocating to places outside of California. The destination had to be large enough that it could support my way of making money and for me to not stick out like a sore thumb.

Which was how I ended up freezing my ass off in Denver, Colorado.

A man who went by the name “Norman” paid me well for an evening in a private room of the kink club, Edge. I got the best of both worlds with Norman. He paid me to stay agreeable while he restrained me and beat on me in some shape or form. I knew it was weird or might seem unhealthy to many people who didn’t live the kink lifestyle, but being restrained while able to yell or cry out was quite the cathartic release. And it was my only release and form of happiness in life right now.

Neither of us asked questions about one another. I simply had to show up for him, he did what he needed to do, then nonchalantly left an envelope by my clothes with payment. After he finished with me, I would gather all my stuff, including the envelope, and go off to the men’s locker room to shower and get dressed.

He’d never gotten wild or crazy with me, and he’d never beaten me to a pulp. Once Norman reached his threshold, that was that. He also knew I didn’t like any of the aftercare or partner-check type of shit. I just needed to be hit, paid, then let go.

I arrived at Edge and noticed right away that it was more crowded than usual. There were a lot of people milling around and talking. I was grateful Norman had a standing reservation at nine. So while this crowd would probably have to wait for an available room, Norman and I already had one.

I turned the corner to make my way down the hall to our room but stopped in my tracks when I saw the number of people congregating in the hall. What the fuck? It wasn’t out of the norm to see people in the hall watching whatever was going on in rooms that had the doors open, but I’d never seen this many people watching one room. I inched my way forward and spotted Norman watching the room. As I approached him, he smiled at me and went back to watching the people.

Like everyone else, I gazed into the room and saw two guys and Mitzi. Poor dudes. That girl was a fucking joke just looking to make videos for her porn channel. I’d never seen the two guys before, and she must have suckered them into taking her into a room. Why would so many people be interested in watching two new guys top Mitzi, though? Maybe everyone knew what a mess Mitzi was, and they were hoping the guys would lay into her.

“They new?” I asked Norman quietly.

He shook his head but didn’t take his eye off the room. “No. That’s West and Spencer. West is the one spanking Mitzi. They’re long-time members of Edge, but they only come every now and then.”

“So all the people are here to see them?” I mumbled as I watched them with her. “Are they a couple?”

“Yeah, they like co-topping and usually are phenomenal to watch.”

I remember being part of threesome play. Before leaving California, I had a lot of group play opportunities during my later years of high school and after I'd graduated. Two friends and I spent a lot of time together before I'd moved to San Diego. It was easy and fun. The sex was incredible, and the guys were always there but not too much in my face. I loved being part of something but not always having to be the direct focus. I missed those guys.

I looked at Mitzi and shook my head. That girl had no clue she was part of something right now that could possibly turn into a special bond. The back of Norman’s hand lightly hit me in the center of my chest to get my attention.

“Ready?” he asked when we made eye contact.

“Yes,” I answered as I nodded.

Norman gestured with his head toward the direction of our usual room. “Let’s go,” he said.” At a snail’s pace, we moved down the hallway. I figured that by the time I’d reached the room with Norman, my wandering thoughts of being the subject of co-toppers paradise would have subsided. Surprisingly, it hadn’t. And I had no idea why. It was like I knew them, and they were good friends of mine or something. Norman was the closest I had anymore to a friend. We were just friends who never talked or did anything together—outside of Edge.

Our room had been set up in the typical fashion. There was a tall oak table with Norman’s favorite impact toys, some rope, towels, lube, and two bottles of water. Toward the back of the room was a black leather spanking bench adorned with gunmetal-colored metal fasteners, loops, and D-rings.

While Norman did some stretches and arm exercises to loosen and warm his muscles, I quickly undressed by the bench near the door. Norman’s duffle bag already sat on the bench and took up half of it. He never liked using one of the lockers, saying he had no idea if anyone ever cleaned them.

I draped my puffer coat over the backrest of the bench, then swiftly pulled off my sweatshirt, long-sleeved shirt, and undershirt before haphazardly folding them and setting them beside Norman’s bag. I toed off my shoes and pushed them under the bench while I undid my jeans. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Norman holding a length of rope in his hand while he examined the ends. Instantly, I could feel my dick begin to stiffen. In one move, I took my jeans and underwear off and set them on top of my other clothes. I leaned against the arm rest of the bench for support while I lifted each leg to take off my socks.

Completely naked, I walked toward Norman and took my place beside the spanking bench to wait for his command. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long before I heard him say, “Up on the bench.” I was quick to obey and eagerly mounted the bench and rested the side of my face on a towel he had set out for me.

Norman ran his hand down my arm to my wrist, rubbing and squeezing my muscles as he went. I watched as he took the length of rope and held it in the center, letting the ends dangle below. He wrapped the double lengths around my wrist once and then let the ends fall to the side of the D-ring near my left wrist. He took his keys out of his pocket and slid the blue mini flashlight keychain between my wrist and the rope. The keys clanged against one another while he tied the rope in a knot. Once he was done, he took the keys and walked around to my right side and repeated the work.

He explained to me a while back that the little blue flashlight was put there while he tied the knot to make sure he wasn’t making it too tight. Personally, I was all for the tightness, but he said if it was too tight, my hands could get numb, and then our play time would be over too quickly. Some people here played with fluffy cuffs around their wrists, and the restraints were attached to the cuffs. The cuffs were preferred by some so the bottom didn’t end up with abrasions or rope burn.

“You good?” Norman asked when he finished restraining my right wrist. I moved both of my arms a little to show him the range of motion I had.

“Yeah, I’m ready to rock.” I’d been ready for this all week. He slid his fingers between the rope and my wrists again to double check the rope wasn’t too tight.

While Norman went to get whatever he wanted to use on me, I closed my eyes and tried to clear my mind of all the crap running around in it. I was in my happy place now. Hugging a spanking bench was one of my favorite things in the world. Here, I felt safest and the most relaxed.

My body naturally jumped a little as soon as Norman’s leather strap came down on my flesh. The heat spread through my body, warming me and even taking the chill off that I’d felt down in my toes. I kept my eyes closed and concentrated on my breathing as he brought the strap down on my ass over and over. The games we played had always seemed to turn into a game of endurance.

How long could I last?

How long could he swing the strap?

Time passed quickly, and I noticed I was really starting to feel it. At the start, my hands had been loose and open but were now closed into tight fists. I could feel the tension in my forehead as I kept my eyes tightly closed. My body felt as though a small flame was simmering on my ass, and that at any moment it could erupt into a massive fire.

I’d reached the point now where I no longer heard the dull hum of people in the club’s hallways. All I could hear was the thwapping noise as the leather strap cut into my skin, followed by a faint noise that signaled I was beginning to break. The initial moans hadn’t hidden the unmistakable pleasure and ecstasy that had flooded through my body. Whimpers that were once quiet murmurs had evolved into a mix of yelps and cries. My brain screamed at me to stop this madness, but something deep within begged me to stay as long as I could.

I knew it would all be over soon. The small timeframe I had on Saturday nights with Norman was the only time I didn’t hate who I’d become because of the decisions I’d made that drove me here. Even though Norman and I kept our friendship confined to within the walls of Edge, I believed he cared about me and needed me. I liked that feeling.

A break in the cadence of being hit with the strap gave me an opportunity to breathe and process the moment. My ragged breathing blared in my ears and urged me to open my eyes. As I watched Norman walk to the table and set the strap on it, sweat from my forehead slid down to settle in the corner of my eye. As my pulse attempted to settle, Norman undid his pants, rolled on a condom, put some lube in the palm of his hand, and turned around. His eyes found mine, and a kind smile spread across his face.

“Ready?” he asked as he coated his hard shaft in lube. I nodded and smiled back.

Norman disappeared from my sight as I took a couple deep breaths to prepare for his dick. He pushed his cock inside me at a slow but steady pace. As his skin pressed against my burning flesh, I groaned. Norman laughed and patted the side of my right thigh. Sex with Norman was never long or dramatic. It was the dessert for him, whereas the beating was the main meal. He just needed a little extra to finish the night off.

After a number of thrusts and some grunts, Norman slapped the raw skin of my ass, signaling he’d come. As he emptied, he roughly gripped a handful of the hot flesh on my ass. Within a few moments, his grasp on my skin had relaxed, and shortly after that, our physical connection was gone.

I hated this part and instantly began detaching.

“One moment,” he said as he moved away from me. I opened my eyes and saw him toss the condom in the small trash can under the table before he pulled up his pants. He wiped his hands off on a towel as he stepped toward me. “There are some abrasions on your ass cheeks?—”

“It’s okay. I’ll get it taken care of in the shower,” I said, cutting him off. I tugged on the restraints, so he’d see that I was ready to be let up.

“I know you dislike this sort of thing, but I wanted to wipe the blood off at least.”

I closed my mouth tightly and stared at the ground as Norman gently patted the towel against my ass. Though I hated this part and wanted out of here, I kept my mouth closed because I didn’t want to do or say anything that would jeopardize playing with him again. Suddenly, I thought of those two guys Mitzi was messing around with. Not all of us were lucky enough to have two tops to play with. As soon as Norman pulled the towel away from my ass, he untied me from the restraints and helped me off the bench.

When I stood fully upright, I rolled my shoulders and head in some circles while Norman stood by. I could feel his eyes on me, but he knew I didn’t do eye contact afterward.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yep.”

“Good.”

I gingerly walked behind him toward the bench with our stuff on it. The more I walked, the more I felt the pain in the backs of my legs and ass. Norman had reached the bench first and had already slyly set the envelope by my clothes.

“Same time next weekend?” he asked.

“Hell yeah,” I confirmed.

“Alright. See you next week.” He left me and went back to the table to clean up the spanking bench and the rest of the area.

Clutching the envelope in my left hand, I gathered my clothes, shoes, and jacket before heading out. With my head bent down, I stepped into the hallway, checked that the cash was all there, then made my way to the men’s locker room.