by dr_mabeuse
Beyond Limits is impossible to look away from, even as it elicits a terrible sense of dread. Scarier than anything in the Erotic Horror category, because the protagonist is all too human.
Half of me feels sorry for Russell, half of me wants to shake him until his teeth rattle, and all of me wants to get him into my office (I'm a therapist) pronto. There's nothing wrong with what he wants, but HE thinks there is, and the way he thinks about it is so self-defeating that it'll be really hard for him to ever get what he wants.
He also seems like rather a loose cannon, someone who probably *shouldn't* get what he wants until he's better able to handle it. It's not clear to me that he realizes how completely wrong it was to force Lexi, and I was shocked when he said, "I never understood subs, but then, I didn't have to." How can somebody possibly trust him enough to hand herself over to him if he not only doesn't understand what she's feeling but doesn't even want to? I think Russell needs a heck of a lot of education about how these things are done. I think he needs a BDSM mentor, someone who can help him to accept himself, to understand what's happening on the other end of the whip, someone who can remind him that without consent, it's just rape.
These dark and disturbing images force my reaction. Like a good Dom you compel me to read…compel me with the force of your writing. Your words are like the incredibly well placed stroke of a fine whip, “Well fed, well fucked, full of success and with things going amazingly well, I began to look around for things I could destroy, ruin, and fuck-up.” Then you continue to beat me with the pithy, “These suburban houses contain such tales of American gothic tragedy, played out on linoleum floors and formica tables.” Then you whisper directly into my brain, “…my dirty squirming ejaculate, my lewd eructations of testicular exudates…” until I’m screaming for release. Then you inform me, “I didn't fall in love so much as declare armistice, define peace terms.”