Broken Toy

by Tymber Dalton

  She patted the chair next to her and grinned. “We won’t throw you into the deep end of the pool without floaties, I swear.”

  “Good to know. I appreciate that.”

  Everyone else arrived fairly soon after. Another round of introductions, or reintroductions, as the case was. He’d met pretty much everyone there through the investigation the prior year.

  He was also relieved to see no one acted overly wary of him or his motives for being there.

  As the meal continued, he was struck by how absolutely freaking normal everyone appeared and acted. He was well aware of the significance of things some of the people wore, like collars, bracelets, and the like.

  But if it wasn’t for that, and his prior knowledge of their lifestyle, he never would have assumed anything out of the ordinary about any of them.

  It was a welcomed relief to know that his introduction into a more public aspect of this area of his life would be chaperoned by a group of people he suspected he would quickly come to trust.

  Hell, he already liked them.

  Toward the end of the meal, the conversation turned to the invisible topic at hand. From across the table, Seth Erikkson got Bill’s attention. “By the way, we do have room in our class next Saturday.”

  “We’d love to have you,” Leah added.

  “I don’t have any…equipment,” he said, glancing around to nearby tables to make sure they weren’t being overheard.

  “It’s all right,” Seth assured him. “No special ‘equipment’ needed. We have plenty of extra.”

  “I’ll warn you, I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  Tony Daniels hooked a thumb toward Seth and Leah. “Then it’s the perfect class to introduce you to it. If nothing else, even if you decide it’s not for you, they’re excellent teachers and you’ll kill a few hours.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  And if he didn’t lie to himself, he really was. It was nice to have something to look forward to other than yard work.

  Hell, it was just nice to have a group of people he could spend social time with who weren’t in law enforcement or the restaurant business.

  They were waiting to settle their checks when Rob said, “Oh, you know what? I totally brainfarted on the munch tomorrow.” He turned to Bill. “Did you want to go to that? We’d be happy to go with you.”

  “Munch?”

  “Our once a month group dinner,” Tony said. “Vanilla, don’t worry. It’s a larger group. This month we’re having it over at Ballentine’s off Bee Ridge. In their meeting room in the back. Starts at six.”

  “They don’t mind you doing that?”

  “They love it,” Laura assured him. “We rotate between a couple of restaurants. We average thirty or more people per munch. That’s a guaranteed busy night for them, and we tend to tip well. They know what we’re about, but they don’t mind because it’s more than worth it to them, and we’re careful not to disturb any other diners.”

  “Who else is going?”

  Other than Sully, Clarisse, and Mac, who lived up in Tarpon Springs, it appeared nearly everyone else was going.

  He didn’t give himself time to think about it. Take the damn risk. “Sure. That sounds like fun.”

  * * * *

  There were already over a dozen cars sitting in the parking lot when they all arrived at Venture. The club occupied space in a two-story, nondescript warehouse building in an industrial complex east of I-75.

  Bill was a little surprised to realize he didn’t feel nervous at all. In fact, a pleasant tingle of anticipation ran through him.

  That was something he hadn’t felt in too damn long.

  He met up with Laura and Rob in the club’s lobby. Other than some items hanging on the walls and some books for sale, it really didn’t seem very shocking. Hell, a lot tamer than the scattering of adult video and toy stores down in his home turf of Charlotte county.

  Stop thinking like a cop. You’re here for fun.

  Although it was hard to turn off his cop brain, he was determined to stay several hours, at least, and force himself to do something fun besides sitting in front of the TV and watching History Channel reruns for a change.

  Okay, so maybe not for fun, but at least for a distraction. Something to get him out amongst a better selection of the human race than he usually had to deal with as part of his job.

  After getting his club membership handled and finding out he had a comped entry that night courtesy of Seth and Leah, Rob and Laura led him to the door.

  “Ready?” Laura asked.

  “No, but let’s do it anyway.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Rob said with a grin.

  Rob opened the door and they walked inside. The main lights had been dimmed, but there were several colored lights scattered around the space and highlighting various pieces of equipment. It looked clean, which was a start. A long buffet table was set out on the far right side, where there was a grouping of round tables and chairs for people to sit and socialize.

  Also on the right side of the space sat several groupings of couches. On the far left and merging into the middle of the space were various pieces of play equipment. He wasn’t sure what all of them were for, but from the looks of one woman, who was strapped to an X-shaped wooden frame in one corner while her male companion went after her with what he guessed was a flogger, it wasn’t difficult to imagine.

  Bill noticed while several of the couples and triads he’d just eaten dinner with had brought various rolling suitcases or duffel bags into the club with them, Rob and Laura hadn’t. Laura only carried a large bag he thought was her purse.

  “You look like you’re traveling sort of light compared to the others,” he noted.

  Rob grinned. “You’d be surprised what little we can use to play with when we get creative.”

  “We’re not as implement-intense as others,” Laura said. “Besides, my ass is still bruised from the beating I got last week.” She hooked her arm through Rob’s and looked up at him with something Bill could easily label adoration. “He’s going easy on me this week.”

  “A little rope bondage, a little forced orgasm torture.” He playfully swatted her ass. “Go get changed, baby girl.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She eagerly hurried off toward the bathroom, where some of the other women had already gone to get changed.

  Rob leaned in. “Don’t get me wrong, play is fun. But most of what we do as part of our dynamic doesn’t involve play, or even sex, a lot of the time. There’s no wrong way to do what you want to do as long as everyone’s on board with it.”

  Bill nodded, trying to remain neutral. He wasn’t at a point yet where he felt comfortable discussing with Rob what he’d had with Ella, but knew if their friendship grew that might very well happen.

  Landry and Cris walked over after they’d set their gear down on the far side of the room. “Feel free to ask any questions,” Landry said. “Or if you want to try anything out with someone, we can arrange it.” He slapped Cris on the back. “He’s always a good demo dolly.”

  Cris smirked. “Thanks, Sir.”

  “I appreciate that. I suspect tonight I’ll mostly be watching and asking questions.” Not to mention while he didn’t have a problem with it, he personally wasn’t into guys.

  “Not a problem,” Cris assured him. “No pressure. It was a big first step just coming out in the first place.”

  “You got that right,” Bill said.

  He couldn’t really say anything he saw over the course of the evening shocked him. As a cop, he’d seen a lot. He didn’t feel anxious over any of it, because he knew it was all between consenting adults, and no one seemed to be doing anything to violate the club’s rules.

  If nothing else, the evening allowed him to rule out sadism as a turn-on. He could understand why some people enjoyed it, but he also realized if he met someone who had that kind of need, he likely wouldn’t be able to meet it for them. The control and domination of someone in bed�
�and even out of it, in some ways—absolutely, that would stiffen his cock every time.

  On the other hand, after watching Seth truss Leah up in what appeared to be a very intricate and artistic rope harness before doing some forced orgasm play with her, Bill knew he’d hit upon something that interested him.

  After their scene, once Seth was able to talk again after giving Leah aftercare, Bill walked over to him. “Is that the kind of thing I’ll learn in class next week? It looks awfully complicated.”

  “We’ll be teaching the basics that can eventually lead to that, yes.” He smiled. “Why? See something you liked?”

  “Yeah. I think that’s something I could really get into.”

  “Good. You going to come to the munch tomorrow night?”

  Bill nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I really think I’m going to. You think you can teach someone like me with no experience?”

  “All you have to have is a willingness to learn and practice, and a lot of patience.”

  “And someone to practice on.”

  Seth smiled. “I’m sure we can arrange that.”

  * * * *

  When Bill got home, after taking a shower and grabbing a cup of hot herbal tea to relax him, he fired up his laptop. From last year’s investigation, he already knew Rob and Laura were members of a site called FetLife. During dinner, everyone had encouraged him to sign up and friend them there.

  It would, they said, allow him to connect with more people from their area.

  After a few minutes he finally decided on a username and used a throwaway e-mail account to sign up for the site. He sent everyone from dinner a friend request before taking a few minutes to peruse the site. Most of the people from dinner had marked they were going to an event, the munch.

  What the hell, why not?

  He clicked the option on the event’s page that he was going, too.

  Then he sat back and stared at the screen for a moment, looking at some of the other usernames marked as going or maybe. Some of the usernames were…

  Interesting.

  As were the personal avatars some of the people used. Everything from Hello Kitty to cock shots.

  Well, I suppose it is a kind of pussy.

  He felt the corners of his mouth curl in a smile, surprising him.

  It felt good to be amused again.

  Felt good to have a little anticipation for something in his personal life for a change.

  Chapter Seven

  Gabe spent all day Saturday curled up on the couch, in baggy shorts and a T-shirt, TV on, coffeepot working overtime, and crocheting her way through nearly a dozen amigurumis.

  She also spent it forcing herself to keep her focus on her task and not on any other thoughts that struggled to make their way through to the front of her mind.

  Like cracking open her work laptop and…oh, working.

  Slacker.

  She shoved that thought away, which had arrived with way more than a tinge of Maria’s shrill voice, and got up to pour herself another cup of coffee.

  I’m doing what my boss ordered me to do. That’s following orders and being a good employee.

  By Saturday night, she sat back and stared at the lineup of crocheted animals arranged on the coffee table. Four alligators, three dolphins, three rabbits, and a dog.

  That was the most she’d been able to complete in one sitting in…years.

  See? I was productive.

  She wasn’t sure who she meant that comment for, but no internal monologues dared contradict her.

  After popping a microwave dinner in to cook, she glanced at the laptops again. Five minutes later, when the bell dinged that her food was ready, she already had her work laptop booted and running.

  She set it on the coffee table next to the animals and went to fetch her dinner. Hey, I’ll just Google that restaurant so I’ll know where it’s at.

  Yeah, even she didn’t believe that.

  She checked her work e-mail, replied to a couple of messages, skimmed through a few files while eating, and, finally, brought up a browser screen to run a Google search on the restaurant.

  It was fairly close, as a matter of fact. She could drive there in a few minutes. Even better, they listed “casual dining” on their website, meaning she could get away with jeans.

  Perfect.

  It would make Walker happy if she could report she’d actually taken his advice and gone there to eat.

  She clicked on the Events link and scanned their website. Tomorrow night a meeting of something called the Suncoast Society was gathering in their meeting room.

  Crud. Did that mean the restaurant would be busier than usual? Now that she’d decided she did want to go, the thought that maybe she’d have to wait another day pecked at her impatient side.

  She clicked on the group’s link out of curiosity, then froze. The link took her to an event page on a blog for a local group called the Suncoast Society. Skimming through it, it appeared to be a Sarasota-based BDSM group who held a monthly dinner munch that rotated between several restaurants.

  Two mental voices waged silent war within her mind. Stay home, you have groceries. Why waste the money?

  The other voice played sneaky. Maybe this is something you should look into. For work. Walker did recommend you eat there. Maybe he did it on purpose.

  Logic tried to insert itself. There are groups like this in South Florida. They aren’t the kind of people you have to worry about. They don’t involve children or anything heinous like that. It’s just adults doing adult things to each other. There are real criminals out there to spend time trying to catch.

  She also hadn’t treated herself to good prime rib in way too long.

  I could always pretend to be a newbie and sit in on their meeting. I’d likely get faster service as well as satisfy my curiosity that they’re harmless.

  She also knew she’d be lying to herself if she denied any personal interest in the matter. She wasn’t a virgin by any stretch of the imagination. Over the past several years, her solo sessions had veered off into the world of less vanilla fantasies. She’d even started reading a few erotic authors on her Kindle, one of the few indulgences she allowed herself with the rationalization that e-books saved her money and space.

  In South Florida, there was no way she’d ever visit a BDSM club or munch or coffee group, even though she knew there was an active scene in the area. Not unless she was doing it as part of an undercover investigation. She couldn’t risk the possibility of running into someone she worked with.

  Or worse, someone she’d arrested.

  Normally when faced with personal conundrums such as this, she chose the easiest or most logical option. Retreat, forget about it, ignore it, don’t do it. Stay home.

  Deny yourself.

  She stared at the line of amigurumis on the coffee table.

  Is this what my life boils down to? A notation on the donation sheets of several charities, and my name listed as investigator on too many cases to count?

  She thought about Rachel. During their last talk just weeks ago, she’d counseled the girl to take personal risks despite the possibility of failure. That failure was always an acceptable option as long as you tried your best.

  Maybe for once I should heed my own advice.

  No one knew her here. She was all the way across the state, for chrissake. If nothing else, maybe she could, for once, not spend an evening totally alone.

  After finishing her meal, she washed out the plastic bowl and put it in the recycling bin to take downstairs when she emptied the trash. Returning to her computer, she shut it down, closed the lid, and returned it to the counter.

  I don’t need to decide tonight.

  She sat on the couch, picked up her hook and yarn, and descended once more into her safe crochet haze.

  * * * *

  By the time Gabe reached the restaurant the next evening, she’d talked herself into not joining the munch group. Why do something like that when she wouldn’t be here that long anyway? It
was stupid and pointless, and she was kidding herself if she thought she should try it.

  Then she realized how full the parking lot was.

  When she walked in, the main dining room appeared full, with several couples and groups waiting in the lobby.

  She walked up to the hostess, who looked up with a cheerful smile. “Hi, welcome to Ballentine’s.”

  “Um, how long for a table?”

  “For one?”

  She nodded.

  “It’ll be at least thirty minutes, I’m sorry. Would you like to wait?”

  A couple walked in and waved to the hostess, who nodded and waved them through.

  Before she could think about it, Gabe asked, “No offense, but why did they go in?”

  “They’re with a group who’s reserved our meeting room tonight.”

  “The Suncoast Society?”

  The hostess brightened. “Yes. Are you with them?”

  “Um, yeah. Sorry, guess I should have said that. It’s my first time.”

  The hostess’ smile broadened. “No worries. Believe me, they get a lot of nervous newcomers we’re pleased to see return again and again.” She motioned Gabe over and pointed toward a door that was just swinging closed behind the couple. “Right through there. Sit anywhere you’d like. They have the whole room reserved.”

  “Thanks.”

  Before her nerve could escape her, or Maria’s voice could chime in, Gabe hurried through the busy dining room to the door. Inside the meeting room there were at least fifteen people gathered. Large, round tables seating eight people each were arranged throughout the room.

  A woman, who was hugging the couple who’d entered before her, spotted her and swooped over. “Welcome! First time?”

  Gabe forced a smile and nodded.

  The woman extended her hand. “I’m Laura Carlton.” She pointed to where two other men were standing and talking with another couple. “That’s my husband, Rob, on the left. The other is our friend, Bill. It’s his first time, too. Come join us.”

  Gabe’s original plan had been to sit by herself off in a corner where she could keep her back to a wall and observe, but the woman was already calling over to the two men to get their attention.