Two-Against-Nature [Suncoast Society](Siren Publishing Sensations)

by Tymber Dalton

  Joyce had a tendency to jump into relationships fast and without looking carefully first. Which, invariably, ended up imploding, leaving Holly to listen to her coworker kvetch about her latest romantic failure during their lunch hour. Holly had long since given up trying to point out to her friend where she obviously went wrong each time, because it would land on oblivious ears.

  Besides, Joyce would only turn around and do it again.

  So far, the woman had avoided getting herself into any horrible circumstances, but Holly was afraid it was only a matter of time before Joyce’s poor judgment lost out to a predator who had no conscience or respect for consent and hard limits.

  They were there maybe five minutes when Nate arrived. He spotted her first and headed over to their table in the social area, toting a large rolling case with his supplies. He was one of the few people who knew about her medical condition, because he’d fire-cupped her and done acupuncture on her before. He didn’t, however, know the exact circumstances behind her injuries that had led to her fibromyalgia.

  “Hello, Holly. You look like you’re hurting.” He held his fist out for a bump from her, which touched her, that he remembered a little fact like that. He was a nice guy, and his wife was a lucky woman. Holly never got a creepy vibe from Nate, just good ole caring and compassion. She always reminded him a little of a young, playful Professor Snape, including sometimes slipping into a British accent.

  He arched an eyebrow at her before he crooked his finger, motioning for her to follow.

  “I thought you were supposed to do a fire cupping demo?” she asked.

  “I am, unofficially. But I’m here every other week, at least. And I wasn’t going to do it until much later anyway. Scrye’s going to be flying someone and teaching basic suspension early tonight because they have to leave by eleven. Plus, there’s Walter and Tory for people to watch. So let’s go. No excuses, my dear.”

  Holly looked at Joyce, who smiled and shooed her away. “Go. Let him help you.”

  “You sure? I don’t feel right leaving you alone.”

  “Positive. I’m here, and I’m totally safe. Not many places safer to meet someone for the first time than here. If I need help, I’ll scream red at the top of my lungs.”

  Holly wagged a finger at her. “You’d better.” She got up and followed Nate across the dungeon to the new side.

  Walter and Tory were already setting up to scene at the front of the space, Tory’s wrists immobilized over her head in suspension cuffs clipped to a metal bar suspended from lengths of chain.

  Holly had seen Walter play before, and while he was handsome and fun to watch, he was so far out of her league they weren’t even in the same solar system. He was a heavy sadist, an extremely heavy player in a scene, even though the few times she’d spoken with him he seemed to be a very nice guy.

  It confused Holly when Nate stopped in the far back corner, which was empty. “Hold on,” he said with a playful smile. He walked over to a storage space under the stairs there that led to more storage space above the bathrooms and returned with a folding massage table. “I got smart and started keeping an extra one here.”

  “Ah.”

  He got it set up while Holly went to use the bathroom. On her return, she fetched a couple of towels and a light fleece throw from the rack provided for free by the club. She didn’t need any prompting to strip the sundress off and then spread the towels out under her before she carefully climbed onto the table and laid facedown.

  Her head was facing Walter and Tory, and while Nate prepared his fire cupping supplies on a rolling table he brought over, she watched them play. Without her glasses on they were a little blurry, but she could still see them.

  In many ways, Holly envied Tory, and any other submissive who could take a fraction of that level of play. It was beautiful to watch the dance between them, Walter using the music as part of his scene, not just his fists but canes and paddles and other implements.

  It was raw and animalistic and sexy. She supposed if someone didn’t know anything about the lifestyle that it might even look dangerous and violent, but Holly knew otherwise. Having earned her knowledge of the human body the hard way, she saw how Walter avoided the spine, the kidneys, only struck fleshy, muscled areas. How he’d rub the hits in, checking Tory over before going after her again for another round.

  Nate gathered her hair and tucked it safely up and out of the way. “Why haven’t you called Cherise to set up an appointment with me, hmm?”

  “Because I work and keep forgetting. Fibro fog. Besides, you’re probably not open when I’m off work.”

  “I told you I schedule after-hours appointments.” Nate leaned in, over her head and upside down, to glare into her eyes. “I also told you that if finances are an issue, I’ll either reduce my fee or give you free sessions so you can at least function. I can feel the pain radiating off you.”

  His glaring eyes disappeared as he drizzled some oil onto her back and started spreading it around. She felt his fingers probing along her shoulder blades, down her spine, and knew he likely could feel every single myofascial knot on her. Especially when he made several tsking sounds audible over the music.

  “I’m not going to ask you to stay late for me,” she mumbled, barely audible over the music.

  “That’s not the point,” he said. “I hate seeing someone I know I can help not take me up on it. First cup.”

  She closed her eyes as she heard him flick the lighter, then the feel of the warmth and suction that bordered on pain—the good kind of pain—as he placed the cup on her right shoulder, moved it around to position it where he wanted, then gave it a slight tug to make sure it had sealed.

  “You’re going to bruise up badly tonight,” he said. “I can see it already. Before we leave here tonight, you will talk to Cherise and work out an appointment with me. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Ah, see, you say that, but I’m not kidding.” He placed the second cup on her left shoulder and positioned it. Then, he leaned in, the sound of his voice close and low. “Look, I’m not an MD, but I take patient privacy just as seriously. If you need to talk to someone, I’m happy to listen.”

  She kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut against the tears that wanted to flow from the compassion she felt. No, not creepy at all. Tender and kind.

  Friendly.

  It was more that than anything, the compassion she felt from him, that threatened to shatter her reserve.

  “It’s a long story,” she finally forced herself to say.

  “Then you might as well start talking, because you’re going to be on my table for a while. A couple of hours, at least. Once I get these cups placed, I’m going to place some needles and do a reiki session on you. Probably use the pressure cups, too, so I can use the pointers. So get comfy. You’re like a darn porcupine right now, you’re in so much pain.”

  “How could you tell that?” she finally asked when she knew she wouldn’t burst into tears.

  “Because it’s my job to be able to tell that. I wouldn’t be very bloody good at it if I couldn’t, now, would I?”

  She opened her eyes long enough to glance around and insure no one was close enough to hear. Even had they been, the few people in that side of the dungeon at the moment were all focused on Walter’s scene with Tory. Because it was early in the evening and there were plenty of empty play stations, they’d be allowed to go over the usual forty-five minute time limit.

  And they normally did.

  Walter would keep an eye out and gauge how busy the club was getting and start wrapping things up when enough of the stations were occupied that he needed to free up the one he was using.

  Since there was a second trapeze bar, as they’d dubbed them, that no one was currently using, it was likely he would scene with Tory for a while.

  Nate poked and prodded Holly’s muscles as he placed and adjusted cups and she finally told him the story. Once she got started, it spilled out like a cracked berm releasi
ng pent up floodwaters.

  In some ways, it felt like a weight had lifted from her.

  In others, it felt like she was drowning. Every time she had to tell the story it slammed home the harsh reality that Louis was stuck in a damned cell and he didn’t belong there. He’d saved her life.

  It wasn’t fair.

  Nate finally walked around to her head and squatted there so he could look her in the eyes. “Why haven’t you told me this before?” He reached up and handed her a couple of tissues.

  “Because it’s not exactly something I want to shout from the rooftops.”

  “But you said he’s innocent.”

  “That’s not what people want to think, though. They think I’m his poor dumb sister victimized again.”

  “I don’t think that. Considering the shit I’m seeing in the world today, my first inclination is to believe your brother is innocent, not the other way around. After Ferguson, I don’t see how any rational person could look at the circumstances of your brother’s trial and not think there’s plenty of reasonable doubt, at least, to exonerate him.”

  “I wish the jury had been six years to the wiser,” she said as she carefully dabbed at her eyes. “Maybe they would have seen things your way.”

  “There’s no other options?”

  “Sure, but they’re expensive ones that I can’t finance. I’m still working on trying to find a non-profit who will take on his case. I’m also trying to find applicable case law, too, so I can write up a proposal I can send that doesn’t sound like a desperate sister trying to get her little brother out of jail.”

  “But you are. Maybe that’s the problem, that you’re not focusing on you and that.”

  “He’s such a sweetheart. He’s gentle. He’s not a mean person. He rarely even swore before all of this. He was a good kid. Every time I go to visit him, it’s like he’s grown a little more dead in his eyes. At least they got him into the dog training program. That’s helped some, I think.”

  “Well, if dogs like him, he has to be a good person.” He offered her a smile, which she finally felt like returning. “I know that’s not the greatest joke in the world, but it’s the best I could do on short notice.” He gently touched her arm, so lightly it didn’t even hurt her, before he stood to get back to work on her muscles. “You know, maybe you should talk to Lynn.”

  Holly knew who she was. “Why?”

  “Haven’t you heard? She hit the lottery, her and her friend, Terrie. Maybe she’d be interested in financing your brother’s appeal. It’s worth asking. The worst that can happen is she says no.”

  A few minutes later, Joyce walked into the room, a smile on her face and a guy following her. This had to be the guy she’d talked about.

  They walked over. “Holly, this is Luke, the guy I told you about.”

  Luke nodded to her. “Nice to meet you. Joyce told me you guys are friends and spoke very highly of you.”

  Luke held out a fist, which even Holly would admit earned him a bonus point with her. Even after being warned she didn’t shake hands because of her pain, some people still tried.

  Holly gingerly reached out so as not to disturb the cups Nate had placed and bumped with him. “Hi, and thanks, nice to meet you, too.”

  “We’re going to go watch Scrye,” Joyce said. “Then probably play, if you don’t mind?”

  “Why would I mind?” Holly asked.

  “I just wanted to make sure.”

  Holly arched an eyebrow at her. Joyce raised both of hers in reply, smiling and nodding.

  The good sign.

  “Holly will be stuck here with me for at least a couple of hours,” Nate said. “So run along and have your fun and leave my victim alone.” He practically channeled Professor Snape as he drawled it, making Holly giggle a little and Joyce burst out laughing.

  Holly waggled her fingers at them. “Have fun.”

  Joyce beamed her a happy smile as she grabbed the guy’s hand and they returned to the other side of the dungeon.

  “First time she’s met him in real life, I take it?” Nate asked.

  “How’d you guess?”

  “The ‘Mother, may I?’ vibe.”

  “Wow. You’re really good.”

  “Reading people is part of my job, my dear.” Nate gently tapped the top of her head. “Now your job is to relax and let me undo some of life’s tribulations in you for a while.”

  “I really appreciate this. It helps a lot when you treat me.”

  “And that’s why I do it, stubborn. Now if you’ll start seeing me on a regular basis in my office, I can keep you from getting this bad in the first place.”

  Chapter Five

  Walt let the music pound through him. Apparently someone had let Tony know Walt was playing, and he’d slipped Walt’s custom song list into the evening’s Rhapsody playlist. The opening drum beats of Godsmack’s “Voodoo” vibrated through the speakers and washed across the room.

  He stretched, stepping behind Tory, who knew what was coming as he started pummeling her shoulders with his fists.

  Keeping time with the beat, using it, he worked his way around and up and down her body—thighs, upper arms, ass, shoulders—punching and slapping, keeping an eye on her body language and how she was moving. Tory had picked up the beat as well, slowly swaying back and forth as much as her restraints would allow. Blindfolded and gagged, she preferred her feet free for balance and to move around a little, but she never wanted to know what was coming next. She also used it as one of their emergency cues, holding one foot high off the ground as an alternate to red if he couldn’t hear her over the music.

  She liked to bite down on the gag when she screamed.

  Which she did a lot of.

  Around him, the club dissolved. Not just the club, but the whole world. All he focused on was the music throbbing through him and the way his hands and implements felt as he played Tory’s body like a screaming synthesizer. This wasn’t just therapeutic for her, but for him as well. He could release his tensions of the past week, let his mind free, and allow his sadistic shadowy side loose to guiltlessly play with abandon.

  When the song ended, Tory was breathing heavy, tears streaming down her cheeks from under the blindfold. He leaned in close, his hand holding her hair. “Color?”

  “Green,” she mumbled around her gag.

  “Good girl.” He tenderly scratched the back of her head, like he might a pet dog, before stepping around behind her again.

  They were just getting started, and Walt was warmed up as Drowning Pool’s “Bodies” started playing. The rest of his playlist was filled with a mix of songs along this note—heavy, thudding bass, hard, driving beats.

  Music to maul by.

  Some people preferred to play to trance beats, or dubstep. That was okay, but he was more a heavy rock kind of guy when it came to his play. And for the next hour or so, the rest of the club would be along for his ride when it came to music.

  He was vaguely aware of Tony emerging through the door from the old side and glancing around, nodding and giving Walt a thumbs-up.

  Walt returned it as he grabbed two floggers from the implement stand he was using and started a Florentine pattern up and down Tory’s back and ass. She was totally naked, and by the time he finished with her, she’d be covered in bruises from her elbows up to her shoulders, down her back to just above her knees. He never marked her where she couldn’t cover them for work.

  If he didn’t leave at least a few marks on her, she’d get pissed off at him. She loved deep, heavy bruises that took the better part of a week or longer to heal.

  He was still flogging her when “Click Click Boom” by Saliva came on. Switching the floggers out for two lightweight canes, he started drumming along her body, making her dance and squeal as he kept her guessing from which direction he’d strike next.

  The prey that wanted to be caught.

  His cock strained against the front of his jeans. When he went home tonight, he’d be rubbing one out f
or sure. That was the only drawback to playing at the club versus at a private party. Not that he was sleeping with Tory anyway, so it was a doubly moot point.

  More people filtered into the new side to watch him as well as to start their own scenes, and Walt once again tuned them out. If Tony or the other DMs didn’t keep them out of his airspace, he’d simply nail them on his backswing.

  Wouldn’t be the first time.

  * * * *

  It was hard for Holly not to want to move her feet in time to the music Walt was scening to. She had a perfect line of sight to their scene. He took off his shirt and hung it on the end of the implement rack he was using as the music flowed into Pain by Three Days Grace.

  He wasn’t a perfectly sculpted gym rat, which, for some reason, comforted her. But he had a nice body, his black jeans accentuating his firm ass and legs, and enough definition to show he was used to doing something physical but it wasn’t the center of his existence.

  With his short, black hair and blue eyes, he looked like an intense furnace as he started in on Tory again with an acrylic paddle.

  Nate had repositioned several of the cups on her back. “You should talk to him about playing sometime,” he said.

  “Who?”

  “Walt, my dear. Isn’t that who you’re watching?”

  She suppressed a shudder. “I’m out of his league.”

  “Don’t be so sure. I’ve seen him play in a variety of ways over the years, depending on where he is and who he’s playing with.”

  “He’s a heavy sadist, and I’m not exactly a masochist.”

  “Remember that techniques vary greatly. I once saw him do a sadistic reflexology scene that put what I thought I knew about the human body to shame. Had the woman tied up and then started working on her. Didn’t leave a mark on her and combined it with forced orgasm play. One of the hottest scenes I think I’ve ever seen. Gave me a lot of ideas, that’s for sure. There’s also things like the violet wand. He’s a devious genius with that.”

  “I can’t handle pain.” She had to deal with enough of that in her normal life. She didn’t want it to be part of something that should be “fun.”