Edge Play X (17 page)

“I thought you didn’t take men’s
money,” Simeon said.

“I said that they don’t pay me for
what I do. But I do take their money; many of them enjoy it. Would you like me
to return it?” she asked.

“No.”

“Good. Because I have no intention of
giving it back.”

X pulled a peacock feather from her
bag and went to stand in front of him, holding the plume between her full
breasts.

“Did you forget that you are not supposed
to speak unless you are spoken to?” she asked.

“No,” he said.

“Do it again and I’ll put a ball-gag
in your mouth.”

X dragged the peacock feather gently
over Simeon’s right ear and then down the side of his neck and over his
collarbone before repeating the gesture on the other side of his head.

“You have a very nice body,” she told
him as she ran the feather over his abdomen. “It is almost a shame that I am
going to treat it so.”
 

X traded the feather for black leather
blindfold, and as she leaned down to place this over his eyes, she allowed her
breasts to graze his shoulders. A little moan escaped Simeon and X felt a
shudder of pleasure at the sound.

X picked up his belt and folded it in
half before gently touching his shoulders with its leather. She ran it over his
back and then pulled it away.

“Would you say that you have a high
threshold for pain, Agent Simeon?” she asked.

“I have experienced a high degree of
pain, yes.”

As she stood behind him ready to whip
him, X noticed a large round scar on his lower back hovering above his right
hip. It looked like a scar from a bullet-hole. There was a shiny, puckered
quality to it. It gave a sense of history to him. She wanted it to be a bullet
scar, liked imagining the suffering he would have experienced, the burn it must
have made him feel, the searing heat.

“Is that a scar from being shot?” she
asked, trying not to sound compassionate.

“Yes,” he said, and X hit him with his
belt.

“Then what I am going to do to you
should seem tame.”

X hit him again and continued until
his back was nicely pink. The collision of leather and flesh made a sharp
sound, the slap of dead skin hitting live skin. When she was satisfied, X
un-cuffed him, removed the blindfold, and told him to sit on the throne. Simeon
climbed onto the chair. X flipped the metal arcs that had been built into the
chair over his wrists and ankles before securing them with the heavy metal pins
that locked them into place.

“Isn’t this the most lovely chair?”
she asked.

“Yes, it’s a work of art,” he agreed.

“The man who made it for me was a
gifted
metalsmith
. He said that he wanted to make
this throne because he liked the idea that even nobility wasn’t free, that
there was an element of sadism and masochism to royalty. It even reclines so
that it can be used as a medieval rack. It has all kinds of tricks built in.
You should get your government to commission one to use for the detainees you
torture.”

“I don’t torture,” he said.

She got a chrome clothespin from her
bag and gently touched it to his right nipple.

“I am going to choose a place on your
body to put this. Maybe you can help me choose.”

X located the head of his hard penis
under his boxers and touched it with the clothespin, asking him if he would
like it there. He squirmed and shook his head no as she ran the pin down the
shaft of his penis and held it over his scrotum, looking at him for a response.
Again, he shook his head no, more forcefully this time.
 

“You are no fun at all,” she told him
before moving the clothespin back to his right nipple and clipping it on, his
body tensing as she did so. “We are just beginning,” she taunted as she snapped
a matching clip on his left nipple.

Then X went to the counter that
separated the kitchen from the living room and poured herself some more wine. She
took a sip, enjoying the bittersweet taste of it over her lips. After that, X
walked back over to her bag and pulled out a joint which she lit and took a
drag from. She kneeled between Simeon’s open legs, inhaled another lungful of
the drug, and blew the smoke into his mouth. He inhaled her exhalation.

“If they drug-test you, just tell them
that your dominatrix forced you to smoke it,” she said before pulling the smoke
into her lungs one more time and blowing it into his mouth again.

Her lips were touching his ever so
gently, but she did not kiss him, did not want to kiss him. Simeon’s lips
trembled slightly as he accepted the smoke. X snuffed out the joint in the
ashtray and took a riding crop out of her bag. X placed the tip of the crop on
his shoulder and then ran it over his chest and abdomen before stopping at his
belly button.
 

“Do you think your superiors will be
understanding if you fail your drug test?”

X located Simeon’s penis with her crop
and traced the length of its hardness.

“If they were aware that I was forced
to smoke it, yes.”

X pulled the crop away from his body.
The clicks of X’s shoes echoed through the room as she walked around to the
back of the chair, making it so that Simeon could no longer see her. X reached
over the chair and caressed Simeon briefly on his cheek.

“Why did you come here, Simeon?”

“I have my reasons. Does there need to
be a reason?”

“You asked me what I did to
Compton
that drives him so crazy.”

“Yes.”

“I think that you would have to ask
Compton
what it is that drives him so crazy, and even
then, I’m not so sure he would be able to tell you. Every man is so different.
What one man enjoys, another finds disgusting. What causes pleasure for one man
causes pain to the
next.
Does it surprise you that a
man who has the world at his feet wants to be treated like a slave?”

“Sometimes.”

“Terry Compton is a slave—a slave to
his desire,” she said, “and apparently, so are you. You see, I think that you
came here because you wanted to get off. You know
Compton
gets off on this and you wanted to see if it
would give you the same kind of thrill. Men like you, always thinking of you
can get, of how the situation might benefit you. It’s pathetic. You’re no
better than
Compton
.”

X circled around to the front of the
chair so that Simeon could see her again.

“It’s not true,” he said.

“You investigate
Compton
but secretly you admire him.”

“No.”

“You think you are better than he is.
He makes you feel superior and covetous at the same time.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me? Fuck you,” X said, and she
bitch slapped him across the face. “Did I strike a nerve? Tell me, why did you
come here? Did you think I wouldn’t hurt you?”

X lifted up her boot and placed it on
Simeon’s thigh so that its heel hovered a few fractions of an inch away from
his groin. She heard him take a quick breath.

“Did you think you’d get fucked, that
a
Domme
just ties up a man and bangs him? It doesn’t
work that way, Simeon.”

“I knew you might hurt me.”

“But still you came. Why? Curiosity?
Masochism?”

“I wanted to see how you do what you
do.”

“I’m going to hurt you, Simeon. Are
you surprised?”

X flicked his earlobe and then put her
foot back onto the floor.

“No.”

“Why?”

“There is violence in your nature. It
hangs in the air around you like cheap perfume. Not everyone can sense it but
there are people who can.”

“What do you know about a person’s
nature?”

“At least I don’t turn away from mine,
at least I don’t moralize my cruelty.”

“Tell me the real reason why you are
investigating
Compton
.”

“You know what it is. He’s involved in
arms deals.”

“That’s the reason you gave me but
it’s not true, is it?”

Simeon paused, uncertain how to answer
for a moment, afraid that the woman might know something that he didn’t want
her to.

“Why do you think that?”

“He doesn’t have it in him. You are
interested in him for another reason, so what is it? His charity contributions?
What?”

“Believe what you want. You don’t know
anything.”

His voice began to irritate her, so X
took out a ball-gag, popped its red orb into his mouth, and secured the straps
behind his head.

“I am going to ask you some more
questions and you are going to answer me by shaking your head yes or no,” she
said. “Whatever questions you refuse to answer will determine the extent of
your punishment. Do you understand?”
 

Simeon shook his head yes. X let the
tip of the crop hover above the man’s left thigh.
 

“Do your superiors know that you are
here?”

He didn’t answer so X whacked him as
hard as she could with the crop. She could see from his eyes that he had not
expected her to ask that question. X tapped the ball-gag in his mouth and said,
“Too bad you can’t say your safe word,” and it sounded like he said ‘Bitch,’
from behind his gag.
 

“That’s not very nice,” she said.
“Name calling is so juvenile.”

X hit his right thigh with her crop.
Then, after kneeling between his legs, X reached her hands onto the waistband
of his boxers and pulled them over his hips and down to his ankles.
 

“Maybe you need more of an incentive,”
she said as she traced the length of his penis with her fingertips. “If you
don’t answer me I’m going to hurt you in a place you don’t want to be hurt. So,
one more time, do your superiors know that you are here?”

Again, Simeon refused to answer, so X
reached over to her bag and pulled out a wire cock trap which she held in front
of his face. She then slipped the silver wire over his penis all the way to the
base, the weave of it extending past the tip a few inches, the end of the wire
gathered at a metal ring that X tugged on.
 

“I bet you don’t even know what this
is,” she said, and he shook his head no. “It is similar to a Chinese finger
trap, but for a penis. You see,” X informed him, “the harder you pull, the more
you struggle, the tighter it gets. The man who made me this chair used to like
the cock trap so much,” she said, tapping at the wire ring and clip between
Simeon’s legs, “that he built a ring just for it into this lovely chair.”
 

X clipped the cock cage to the ring
between his legs, and she could see how the wire pushed into the flesh of his
organ. X stood up and lit herself another cigarette. She sat onto the arm of
the couch, watching him, observing him.

“I am going to ask you again. I don’t
want you to be mistaken, I will hurt you. You deserve it. I’m going to pick a
part of your body to put this cigarette out on and if you don’t answer me it’s
going to be a sensitive part. So Ryan, do your superiors know that you are
here?”

Finally, he shook his head yes.

“Good!” X exclaimed and then took
another drink of wine. “Now we’re getting somewhere!”

She went back over to him, took the
clips off his nipples and put them onto his soft earlobes before returning to
her cigarette.

“Now I want you to know something
.
Before I met you, before you cornered me into
dominating
Compton
, I wasn’t actually cruel. I dominated men because
I liked that they liked it. I liked it that they worshipped me, the way they
would let me treat them however I wanted and how they would do whatever I
said…but I wasn’t really cruel. I didn’t take pleasure in their pain the way I
do now.”
 

X walked back over to him and put out
her cigarette on the tip of his shoulder, crushing its cherry onto his formerly
unblemished skin. Kept mostly immobile because of the cock cage, Simeon was
only able to groan behind the ball-gag and squirm a little from the pain. Now
there was real fear in his eyes. It changed the architecture of his face.

“Another
question; the most important one. Am I expendable?”

Simeon
paused for a moment before shaking his head no. X whacked her crop on his penis
and this time he let out a sad squeal behind his ball-gag.
 

“I don’t
believe you,” X said, “so I’ll ask you again. Am I expendable?” Simeon started
talking from behind his ball-gag so X pulled it out of his mouth. “Answer me!”

“You are expendable
to them,” he said. “Everything is expendable to them but themselves.”

“To them?”
X said. “But not to you? Ha!”