“There are different kinds of pain. The good pain helps do exactly what I’m doing here. Don’t lie to me and tell me I’m not hurting you, because I can see you wince when I place a cup. But it’s the good kind of pain, and it’s helping generate the endorphins and dopamine and all those lovely natural chemicals that form the good soup your brain makes to help naturally override bad pain. You aren’t the first person with chronic pain to use BDSM play to help overcome the bad pain with the good.”
She had to admit he had a point. And the thought of doing forced orgasm torture wasn’t exactly a bad one, considering she hadn’t even felt like giving herself any for…well, too damn long. The last guy she’d slept with had been three years earlier.
Then, he’d dumped her because he couldn’t handle her health issues.
She hadn’t really tried since then to find someone else. Not when she had other concerns on her plate.
By the time Walt ended his scene with Tory nearly an hour later, Nate had removed the fire cups and replaced them with pressure cups, as well as had placed a couple dozen acupuncture needles. Several people had walked over to watch Nate for a while, talking with him before eventually drifting off to be replaced by others. Walt wrapped Tory in a blanket and got her settled on a couch before collecting his implements and getting the space ready for the next person.
When he joined her on the couch, she was smiling, laughing, and looked like she was ready to run a marathon. After sitting there and talking for a few minutes, she bounded up and got dressed, racing off to hug someone who’d just walked into the new side and leaving Walt sitting there, alone, an indecipherable smile on his face.
As his gaze swung around and landed on Holly, she felt her face heat and she quickly glanced away.
He rose from the couch and walked over to speak with Nate. Then he held a fist out in front of her. “Hey.”
She timidly reached out and bumped with him. “Hey.”
“Wasn’t he working on you when we got started?”
“Yeah.”
He grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it over to sit where he could talk with her and Nate. “Sorry, I should have asked first. Is it okay if I talk, or would you rather me leave?”
“No, it’s okay.”
“This is therapeutic, not play,” Nate said in a slightly scolding tone. Then, to confirm it, he leaned in so she could see his face. “Someone hasn’t been in to see me like they were supposed to after the last time I treated them.”
Her face heated again. “I’ll talk to Cherise before I leave. I promise.”
“Good.” Nate disappeared again. He removed one of the pressure cups, which also had acupressure pointers in them, and dug his fingers into a knot, making her suck in a pained breath.
“Exactly,” he said. Then he replaced the cup in a slightly different position.
While Nate and Walt chatted, Holly was content to lie there and listen. She couldn’t say she’d spent a lot of time talking with Walt, but he’d always struck her as a nice guy, easy to talk to, not at all standoffish. Tonight was no exception.
After Nate performed a reiki session on her, he did one more round with pressure cups to hit a couple of problematic knots that refused to ease up.
“I was telling her about sadistic reflexology,” he told Walt.
The other man’s face lit up. “Ooh, yes. One of my favorite things.”
“She thinks she couldn’t play with you because you’re a heavy sadist.”
Walt tipped his head as he focused those gorgeous blue eyes of his on her. “Sure I could, if you wanted to. There are lots of ways for me to get my sadistic fix without playing heavy.”
“There are?”
“Absolutely. Is that why I never see you play?”
“I can barely stand for people to hug me sometimes,” she admitted. “Depending on my pain levels.”
“What about right now?”
“It’s always better for a few days after Nate works on me.”
“If you’d like, I could show you a couple of things tonight. No pressure. Only if you want to.”
There was no sign of Joyce anywhere. Holly suspected she and her new guy were on the other side, either scening or watching Scrye do his demo. The rigger was an artist with rope, and Holly had watched him several times, in awe of his skills, and even more in awe—and envy—of the rope bottoms who could do that kind of play.
“Maybe. Can we talk some first?”
“Absolutely. I would actually prefer to talk first.”
While Nate finished with her, Walt sat there and talked with them. Finally, once Nate had removed all the cups and needles and helped Holly sit up, Walt handed her the fleece throw she’d grabbed from the rack. In fact, he’d been ready with it, anticipating and swooping in to help drape it around her.
Protectively.
Stop it. You barely know him.
Still, it was the kindness in the gesture. She knew enough that just because she’d watched someone do a heavy, vicious scene didn’t mean that they weren’t a sweet person the rest of the time.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” He offered her his arm to hold on to and made sure she was steady on her feet before letting go. She went into the bathroom to change back into her sundress. Before she pulled it over her head, she glanced in the mirror and saw exactly what Nate meant.
Her entire back was covered with the trademark red and dark purple spots that made it look like she’d lost a battle with an octopus.
By the time she emerged, Nate already had someone else on his table and was starting with them.
“Thank you,” she told him.
He pointed toward the door to the other side. “If Cherise doesn’t come in here in the next fifteen minutes and tell me you’ve made an appointment to see me in my office, I shall help Walt spank you, my dear.”
She gave him a playful salute. “I’ll go right now.”
Nate pointed at Walt. “I’ll hold you responsible for making sure she does.”
Walt also threw Nate a playful salute before handing her an unopened bottle of cold water from the kitchen.
“I’m sorry, but could you please open it for me?” she asked, hating to admit that she didn’t have the hand strength to do it.
“Sure.” He did, handing it back to her, and he matched her slow, halting pace out to the office where Cherise was helping man the counter. On the way, Holly had spotted Joyce tied to a bench over on the old side, naked and apparently enjoying herself as her new friend was having fun with her.
“I was given orders by Nate to talk to you about an appointment,” Holly told Cherise. “And that if he doesn’t hear from you in fifteen minutes that I’m getting spanked in the bad way.”
“Ah.” Cherise pulled out her phone and scrolled through her calendar. “What’s good for you?”
Holly gave Cherise her work hours. She came up with three different appointment times for Holly to choose from. After getting her set up on the calendar for Tuesday after work, Cherise e-mailed her the details. “Let me go tell him so your butt is safe,” she teased, heading inside.
The other volunteer sitting at the counter was about to say something when Marcia herded a guy out of the dungeon, through the office, and out the front door.
“And don’t let me catch you trying to get back in, asshole,” she yelled after him.
Walt straightened, concern on his face. “Everything all right?”
“No.” Marcia stormed over to the computer and pulled up someone’s records. “Asshole was asking me about Lynn. Wanted to know how he could get hold of her to talk to her about an ‘investment.’ Fucker. They’re creeping out of the woodwork. He’s officially banned.”
Holly’s gut tightened. Well, that settled it. No way would she even mention to anyone else about talking to Lynn, even if Nate had suggested it. She didn’t want to piss anyone off and get herself booted.
“Because of the lottery?” Walt asked Marcia.
“Yeah.”
Walt held out his arm to Holly for her to hold on to. “Would you like to go talk now?”
She took it. “I’d like that very much, yes.” If nothing else, it’d get her mind off her disappointment that one more potential road to earning Louis’ freedom had been shut down.
Chapter Six
They found an empty table in the social area and settled there to talk. Holly made sure to glance Joyce’s way again to verify she was still doing well. One of the DMs had just walked by, apparently checking out the scene. Then the man continued on to the next couple playing, apparently not concerned by whatever was going on.
Holly focused on Walt.
“Is that your friend?” he asked.
“Yeah. We work together. She’s been talking to that guy on FetLife, I guess.”
“Ah.”
“I really enjoyed watching your scene,” Holly told him. “I wish I could do stuff like that.”
“Well, like I said, there are lots of things we could try, if you wanted. Educate me about your fibromyalgia. I know a little about it, but not much.”
Sure that it would likely change his mind and scare him off, she told him. From the brain fog, to the pain that could be deep in her muscles, to her joints, to her skin. How some days were better than others. How temperature and barometric fluctuations could sometimes wreak havoc on her body, or stress, or overdoing chores. And that her symptoms could vary from day to day, sometimes.
“It’s complicated,” she said.
“How did it happen? What caused it, or do they know?”
This would likely scare him away since nothing else had. “I was attacked six years ago. Severely. Spent a couple of weeks in the hospital and longer recovering.”
“Wow. I’m so sorry. Did they catch the guy?”
Emotion flooded through her. Right now, everyone was focused on Scrye, or other scenes, and not on them. In fact, there was no one around close enough to hear them.
“I just told Nate, but he promised to keep it a secret and I would appreciate your discretion, too.”
He nodded.
“My step-father attacked me and killed my mother. But my brother came home and interrupted him, and there was a struggle. My brother shot and killed him. Unfortunately, my brother was charged with everything and was sent to jail. I’m trying to get him a new trial.”
“Why didn’t they believe you when you testified?”
“I have no memory of the attack.” She stared at her hands, hands that had held DNA evidence of her fighting her step-father. “But I know my brother. No way in hell did he do it. He never once changed his story. He was nineteen years old when it happened. My step-father had some anger issues and had been fired from his job earlier that day. He stopped at a liquor store, bought a bottle of booze, got drunk. The last thing I remember about that day is leaving work. I was supposed to go out with friends, and I decided to go home first to change, so I was home earlier than they’d expected.”
There came the understandable confusion on his face, the same confusion she’d seen before. “If there was evidence, though, why did they convict your brother?”
She fished her wallet out and opened it, showing him a picture. “Because of this.”
His eyes widened, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She’d become an expert in this. Narrowed gaze meant they were ready to tap out and back away. Wide eyes meant they immediately grokked the situation and would at least be sympathetic to Louis.
“Does he have an attorney now?”
“Not really, no. A public defender handled his case and bungled it, but I can’t get any of the non-profits to look at his case. They’re too busy. And I’ve already poured all the money I had into lawyers who were either dumb or lazy.”
“Are you busy tomorrow?”
She wasn’t sure she understood his question at first. “I’m sorry?”
“Do you have any plans? I need to make a quick phone call, right now, but do you have any plans?”
“No. Why?”
He smiled. “I think I can help you out. Wait here for me, okay?”
“Sure.”
He stood and walked out. When he returned less than ten minutes later, he wore a smug smile. “We’re going to meet with a friend tomorrow at five.”
“Who?”
“She’s an attorney who likes a challenge.”
“I appreciate that, but I can’t afford—”
“Pro bono. She does work like this all the time. You have files on his case, I take it?”
“Yeah. A whole office full. Why?”
“Then I’ll have her come to your place. I’ll need your address and phone number before you go tonight.”
“Wait.” Her head spun. “Who is she?”
“Believe it or not, my ex-wife. But she’s also a dear friend. Still family, in a way.”
“Ah. You have kids together?”
She didn’t understand why he looked so sad. “No, unfortunately. No kids.” He smiled. “I take it you’re single?”
“Yeah. I’m a double-barreled burden, between my health and Louis’ case. I’m really glad I didn’t take Nate’s suggestion.”
“What’s that?”
“He told me I should try talking to Lynn about funding Louis’ appeal. After the way Marcia threw that guy out, no way in hell would I even think about doing that now.”
“I wouldn’t be so fast to toss that idea out yet. Lynn likes to help people who genuinely need it.”
“No. I don’t have many friends. I dang sure don’t want to get myself kicked out of here.”
“Then why don’t you let me distract you?” Another smile, a kind one. “I have my violet wand kit with me. I could show you that, if you’d like. Maybe show you some of the pressure points I was talking about, too.”
Maybe it was how loose she still felt from Nate’s treatment. Maybe it was loneliness.
Maybe it was wanting something to take her mind off the fact that Joyce was now cuddling over on one of the aftercare couches with her new guy and Holly wouldn’t be doing anything but just sitting there staring at everyone else.
“Where did you want to do this?” she asked.
“I think the mats are still free over on the new side. We can go spread out there and get comfortable, and talk some more. We don’t even have to do anything.”
“Okay. Sure.”
While he left to get his violet wand kit from the truck, she went to use the bathroom again and get another bottle of water. Joyce caught her eye from across the room and gave her a thumbs-up, which Holly returned.
At least she’s got her next distraction.
* * * *
Walt had pulled a Kimbra when he’d called her earlier. “Tomorrow, five o’clock, you have plans.”
“And to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?” she’d drawled.
“A kid put away for a crime he didn’t commit, and a sister who’s desperate to get him a new and fair trial.”
Kimbra had snorted. “I hear that story a lot. I need more than that.”
“How about he’s black, his sister’s white, and the step-father killed their mother and nearly killed her when the brother came home and stopped it, shooting the guy in the process. What the kid got instead of a medal was a life sentence.”
There was a brief silence. “Keep goin’. I’m listenin’.”
He’d told her a little more, including Louis’ name, and he’d heard her tapping on a keyboard.
Then she’d sucked in a sharp breath. “Son of a bitch. I’m in.”
“You are? That was easier than I thought.”
“You don’t understand. Corden Salazar was the prosecutor.”
“Oh. That’s—”
“That’s the motherfucker who I personally think should be sitting in a cell. You’d best give me this case, Walt. Don’t even play.”
He’d smiled. “I’ll text you later tonight or in the morning with the address. Five?”
“With bells on, Fingers.”
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He thought about that exchange as he retrieved his violet wand kit, as well as another smaller bag of goodies, from the back seat of his truck. He met up with Holly inside, eager to play with her as much as she’d let him.
Walt loved Holly’s curly brown hair, how it defiantly tried to escape her attempts to pull it off her face. A little on the long side, she was constantly tucking it behind the arms of her glasses to get it out of her eyes.
He really liked her. Even more, he liked and respected Holly’s dedication to her brother. And he liked a challenge. He’d love to find a way to help Holly enjoy playing and work around her limitations. Or at least figure out a way to help her take her mind off her problems for a while.
In retrospect, he understood why Holly always looked so sad, so careworn when he saw her. Obviously she was, because of the stress she was under, in addition to her physical pain. Never had he dreamed she kept such a huge secret.
Had he known about her brother before, he would have volunteered Kimbra’s services a long time ago.
The mats were still empty. The corner section was reserved for people doing things like takedown or primal or pet play, where rolling around on concrete wasn’t ideal or even advised for the hardiest of masochists. The thick MMA mats were wonderful. Walt grabbed a couple more blankets and a towel to put down and then sat with her, their backs to the room, and started showing her his violet wand kit.
“Do you want me to get undressed?” she asked.
“Not if you don’t want to. And not yet, anyway. Let’s have a little show and tell first.”
He loved her smile. “Okay.”
“Have you ever tried one of these before?” he asked.
“No. I’ve seen them. They look scary.”
“You don’t have any implanted medical devices, do you? Pain pump, pacemaker?”
“No.”
“Okay.” He plugged the extension cord into a wall outlet and then sat next to her, explaining the different attachments, the body probe, all the possibilities.
With it turned down to the lowest setting, he let her feel it on her arm first, with the probe touching her skin so it didn’t arc.