by Sansa Rayne
“They did… punish me. When I transgressed.”
That got her attention. “Oh?” Davis picked up her notebook and a pen and flipped it open.
“But that’s not the same. I was glad they did it, every time. It kept me from succumbing to my demons.”
“Tell me about it. What did they punish you for?” She took the cap off her pen and let it fall to the floor, so intent on being ready for some great revelation.
“I told you: my demons. Nobody’s perfect. Sometimes I couldn’t control them.”
“Control them? Abbi, what did they make you do?”
I squirmed in my seat. How could I tell any of this to somebody I barely knew? Despite what she said, I didn’t think I really knew her at all.
“I can’t.”
Davis leaned forward and smiled. “Abbi, I’ve been doing this for fifteen years. I’ve heard it all. I’ve talked to people in love with inanimate objects. I’ve talked to people who think they’re from Jupiter. Whatever you’re dealing with, you’re not the first. I promise you.”
Was she referencing a bunch of crazies to give me perspective? Because it felt more like she was lumping me in with them. Still, from the way she tapped her foot, eager to finally make some progress, I knew she wouldn’t stop until I gave her what she wanted.
“Okay, fine.” I took a deep breath. “The demons don’t make me do anything. It was more… how I felt.”
She nodded. “How do you mean?”
“Sexual impulses, doctor.”
“The demons caused them?”
“All the time. And the harder I tried to resist them, the stronger they got.” Even now I could feel them, waiting for me to lose focus.
Davis scribbled in her notepad, then set it aside. “Abbi, did anybody ever explain why the demons cause these impulses?”
Easy question. “To get us to sin.”
“Right. Of course. So it was their position that sex was sinful?”
Somebody’s connecting the dots. “Exactly.”
Davis nodded again, then rose from her chair and crouched in front of me. Her face fell in pity. “Abbi, do you think you could give me a moment to tell you something you may not want to hear? Something fully contrary to what you were told at Good Souls?”
I wanted to tell her, “Do your worst.” I knew that the demons speak through others as much as they speak to you. I could put up a wall against them. Yet, I didn’t say that. I said, “Okay.” The way she stared through me, it didn’t seem as though a demon had hold of her tongue. This was her. This was Dr. Kerri Davis speaking.
“Demons don’t cause sexual impulses, Abbi. It’s a perfectly normal part of being an adult. Denying them can be unhealthy, and the ones who forced you to do so, they weren’t doing it for your benefit.”
I didn’t want to believe her. Brady had said the exact opposite, and for years I believed him. “Then why would he tell me they were wrong?”
Davis shook her head and narrowed her eyebrows. “We’re not sure. The police have theories, but until he’s caught, we don’t really know. But let’s not get sidetracked. It’s important for you to believe me now, about this. Desiring sex is a natural part of human development. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t explore it, if that’s what you want. Have you had any sexual thoughts that you enjoyed? That didn’t feel like it was…”
“Being caused by a demon?” I supplied. I turned away, looking to a pressed pink carnation hanging in a gold frame on her wall. I hated that I had a real answer to her question. “I told myself every time that it was the demons. That it couldn’t be right.”
Davis said nothing, and kept her face a blank mask.
“I felt this… thrill… sometimes.” I jammed my hands between the couch cushions, not wanting them free to roam. I squeezed my legs together, as if I could physically shut out the demons. “When I was disciplined.”
Rosy recognition bloomed in Davis’ cheeks, and a hint of a grin lifted her lips. “Disciplined for what?”
“Anything that could threaten my ascension,” I explained. “If I didn’t obey when I was told, or if I neglected my duties… if I did anything else one of the leaders said was unbecoming.”
“I see. And how… how exactly… did they discipline you, Abbi?”
It was there in her voice. I heard it: the sinful hunger in a person’s words when a demon is pushing. But maybe it wasn’t a demon after all? Not if she feels the same way I do. “They’d use a whip, or a cane, or maybe just their hand.”
The dilation in Davis’ eyes; was it in mine too?
“They’d hit you?” she said, less asking than prompting.
“That makes it sound bad. It wasn’t.” I squirmed on the couch, remembering the way the lashes left my bottom throbbing with welts. “Sometimes I acted out, just so they would do it. I thought it had to be the darkness consuming me, but it felt so good.”
Davis folded her hands against her stomach and spread her legs very slightly. I don’t think she was even aware she was doing it, but I’d been there before. I knew what to expect.
“Do it? By that you mean the whipping?” she asked.
I nodded. “That was part of it. But if I really got in trouble…”
The doctor held her breath.
“They’d strip me first, so they wouldn’t ruin my clothes.”
Davis exhaled, trembling with a mixture of fascination and fury.
“And sometimes they would tie my hands first.”
“That’s terrible,” she said softly, averting her gaze to the floor.
“It wasn’t though.” I couldn’t believe I was saying this all out loud, but now I couldn’t stop. “I don’t know why, but I loved it. Something about it made me feel… safe. Like I was being cared for. Like, it wasn’t me being punished, it was the demons. And though it hurt them, I felt…” What was the word?
“Good?” Davis suggested.
“Euphoric.”
“Oh.” Davis smiled brighter than Times Square on New Year’s Eve. “Abbi, that’s wonderful. I think, despite how you may feel about it, you’ve hit on something that can make you happy. You don’t have to be at Good Souls or chasing away demons to get that same pleasure, I promise. You just have to find somebody who will treat you… that way. I think that once you’ve experienced this pleasure in a loving context, you will find the happiness that you’ve been searching for your whole life.”
For a minute she almost sounded like Brady.
“I’d like to believe you, doctor.”
Davis stood up and put a hand on my shoulder. “That’s it, though, Abbi. You don’t have to. You’re a free woman. You can get out there and find somebody who can do this for you. Somebody who understands you, and your needs. You just have to know where to look.”
Blood raced through my veins. The doctor’s voice sounded muffled, as though I’d covered my ears with my hands. “Where?”
Davis smiled and stepped backward to her seat. “Sorry, Abbi, but I think it would be best if you figured that out for yourself. It may be easy, but not necessarily. Life can be like that.”
“Uncertainty,” I muttered.
“Exactly.”
The room spun around me. Screw uncertainty. For years I knew all I needed to know: if I was pure and devout, my ascension would come. Now that’s been taken away. It wasn’t fair. And yet, my mind ran through endless possibilities like songs on a jukebox. I just had to pick one, and I could do it. It was freeing, but overwhelming.
“Abbi, I hate to leave off here, but I have another appointment.”
I stood up, eager to leave. I wanted to sprint through the halls and out into the street, though I didn’t know if that meant I was running from something, or to it. “Sure, doctor. I’ll see you soon.” I felt like a horse in the starting gate waiting to hear the shot.
Davis opened the exit door of her office, but held it ajar. “Before you go, Abbi, I want you to go out this weekend. All right? You can study six days a week, but for once I want y
ou to explore the city, and put yourself out there a little. I’m not saying you have to meet somebody and get married in a day, but make some friends. Give somebody your number. Go for it, okay?”
“All right,” I said. What the hey? For once, she’d dispensed advice I actually liked. “Thanks, doctor. I will.”
“Good. See you next time.”
“Be blessed,” I replied. I bolted the second the door shut, flying down the hall so fast I nearly tripped.
Out on the street I was smart enough not to try running. Besides, my dress wouldn’t really allow it. I watched my reflection in a shop window. Covered from head to toe, pits stained with sweat, I looked alien, even to myself. Everybody brushing past me wore shorts or jeans or t-shirts. They didn’t take a second glance at me, but that’s the city. Even dressed as I was it didn’t merit another thought. Just some bumpkin visiting the real world, they were probably thinking.
I lowered the hood of my dress, and straightened out my messy, red hair. I felt better, seeing it. I injected myself into the flow of foot traffic, occasionally stealing a glance into the windows, until I reached my subway entrance. At the foot of the stairs I paused, noticing for the first time the store in front of me.
Clothes. My jaw dropped as I stared through the glass. Real clothing. Cute, hip-hugging short shorts. Patterned, button-up blouses. Dresses that didn’t even reach the knees. The black and pink facade said “Discount Delilah’s.” I didn’t think about it another second: I went in. When I left, I still wore my same dress, but I had two bags full of new outfits. The thought of wearing them gave me shivers. Watch out, Abbi, I thought in Brady’s voice. The demons are going to be coming for you.
Let them come.
I don’t know how I managed to wait until Friday to venture out again. It was only two days, but something had stirred inside me and I didn’t want to delay any longer. However, even I knew not to bother going to clubs or bars on a Wednesday.
Twice I started to dial Elspeth to ask her to join me. Scared of going out alone, I wanted somebody familiar with me, but I couldn’t call. After all I’d said to her, all the accusations… to ask her to join me as I sought out a… a man. It’d be a slap in the face.
Unless I was wrong. Maybe she’d be happy for me? Maybe she’d be glad I was seeing things the way she does. Either way, I couldn’t bring myself to call. Instead, I sat at my window and listened to the cars go by and stared at the sky until it turned golden, then purple and then finally black.
From my new wardrobe, I chose a black midriff-baring blouse with long, flared sleeves, and a matching black, knee-length skirt. Back at the store, I lacked the courage to try on more than one set of lingerie, and I couldn’t look at the cashier when she rang up the hot red top and bottom. The thong wedged into my backside felt strange and uncomfortable at first, but I was amazed at how quickly I grew used to it. I hoped nobody would notice that I wore sneakers. I didn’t have the money for nice heels, and it had been so long since I’d worn a pair, I didn’t want to be stumbling all night.
And yet, when I opened the door to my apartment, a hand made of ice plunged into my chest and squeezed my insides. My legs wobbled and I couldn’t breathe. I stepped back and slammed the door behind me, and then I could gasp for air again.
I couldn’t go out dressed like that.
You have to, said Dr. Davis in my mind. Find a way.
Back in my bedroom, I flung open my closet and tore a plain dress off its hanger. Without taking off my new clothes, I put the other dress on, covering myself in teal. The extra layer was stuffy, but I felt better with it on. You’ll take it off once you get to the club, I promised myself. Pleased with the revised plan, my confidence returned, I ventured out.
As soon as I lifted my hand to hail a cab, a car waiting at the curb peeled out, cutting off another cab, which honked loudly before speeding away. When the car stopped, I threw myself inside.
“Where to?” asked the driver, a surprisingly attractive man probably in his mid-forties. I heard a buzzing sound from a headset clinging to his ear, and in the rearview mirror his eyes widened and gleamed. I saw a hint of dark hair escaping out the back of the baseball cap he wore.
“I’m trying to meet a man,” I blurted out, suddenly losing my nerve.
“I’m married, honey, but I’m flattered. Seriously, where can I drive you tonight?”
Blushing, I sighed and shook my head. Thank God he had a sense of humor. “Somewhere I can meet a man, please. Some place that’s… maybe a little…” How could I say it out loud to a total stranger? “A little different, I guess.”
In a city like this, that could mean literally anything; too mortified to clarify, I sat back in the seat and buckled up. It was like I’d spun a globe, closed my eyes, and stopped it with my finger.
“I know a spot, lady. It’s got some options. We can be there in ten minutes, does that sound good?”
“Yes, thanks,” I said, covering my eyes with my hand. I could hardly hear myself think over my pounding heart.
Like so many cabbies, the driver spoke to somebody through his earpiece while he slipped through the traffic, so I didn’t realize at first when he’d begun talking to me.
“Hello miss? Earth to miss?”
“Sorry,” I said. “My name’s Abbi, by the way.”
“Abbi? I’m Raymond. Can I ask you a question?”
I wondered if he recognized me, or maybe put it together when I said my name. He seemed nice enough, though. A good soul doesn’t turn her back on strangers for no reason. “Sure, Raymond.”
“This may be a dumb question,” he said, pulling to the curb and stopping the meter. “But are you new to the city?”
I laughed. What gave it away? “Kind of. I’ve been here a few months.”
He opened the glove compartment and pulled out a card. He passed it through a slot in the car’s partition as I swiped my credit card to pay. “Take this. Give me a call if you need somebody to show you around a little. All right?”
“Thanks,” I said, taking the card. I threw it in my little, black purse.
“Have a nice night, Abbi,” he said as I popped open the door.
“You too, thanks,” I replied. “Be blessed.”
Raymond’s cab drove off slowly; I watched until it rounded a corner and disappeared.
For a while I walked up and down the block, checking out all the different clubs. Raymond had nailed it: the street was lined with one venue after another. Long lines extended from the entrances of several, and I realized that I’d made a rookie mistake. I should have left earlier; the last thing I wanted to do was stand around by myself waiting to get in. When I had gone around in a circle, I stopped to think.
As I weighed my options, a man and woman approached me. Dressed in black leather vests and long pants, their arms were covered in full tattoo sleeves; I counted a dozen piercings between their two faces. Their long, jet black hair ran down their backs. They stared at me probably with the same expression bizarre fascination.
“Excuse us,” said the man. He reached past me and grabbed a metal handle sticking out of the wall; or, I’d thought it was a wall. A heavy metal door slid away, revealing a dark corridor and a thunderous bass beat.
“Oh,” I said. I’d thought this was the side of another building; it had no other entrance I could see, nor any windows.
“I like your outfit,” said the woman. She seemed genuine. “It’s really kinky. I’d love to know what you got on underneath.” She winked, and then she and the man vanished into the building, shutting the door behind them.
She thought my outfit was kinky? I didn’t understand. And how did she know I had on something underneath?
“First time here?”
I spun around at the sound, a deep baritone voice. It belonged to a man who walked toward me slowly, arms at his sides. He wore a black tank top that clung to a broad, built chest, revealing a pair of massive, sculpted biceps. He’d tucked the shirt into a pair of tight, black jeans. He stood
a full foot above me, and for a second I nearly ran, but his smile conveyed charm and amusement, instead of malice.
Actually, for a moment, he reminded me of Brady, who had the same confident swagger and a body built from years of running a farm. The similarities ended there, however. In all my years at Good Souls, I never once saw Brady smile. I’d loved the way he smoldered and scowled, defying the the weight of an entire world — there were so many souls to save, but he could only help so many ascend at a time.
This man’s features were clean, not weathered by decades of unending service to God, but there was a darkness in his eyes. I recognized it immediately.
“I don’t even know what this is,” I replied, pointing at the door. “I was just… and then those people came. How was I supposed to know this was a door?”
“You’re not,” he said. “This is Dante’s. It’s a private club.”
“So then it’s not your first time here?”
He shrugged. “I’ve come in a few times. It’s all right, I guess.”
Was he serious? A secret club in the heart of the city and it’s “all right,” he guesses? Was that his way of playing it cool, or did he really mean it? “I’d like to see it,” I said.
He snorted. “You sure this place is for you, church lady?”
I laughed. You have no idea. He was right, though. My plain dress had to go.
“Could you… turn around?” I asked.
“No.”
“Seriously? For ten seconds?”
He crossed his arms. “No.”
Unbelievable. Instead, I turned around, and as quickly as I could, I pulled my dress up over my head and off.
When I pivoted back to face the man, he scanned up and down, grin growing wider. “That’s more like it,” he said.
I tried not to stare at my shoes as my cheeks burned. Then I felt his fingers lift my chin and his gaze touch mine.
“I’m Mason. And I think I was wrong about you.”
“I’m Abbi- Abigail.” The last time a man looked at me the way Mason was, I’d been tied to a post after a whipping from Brady. It spoke of need, and desire, and a ghost of a hint of sympathy.
