Authors: Roxy Harte
So why does thinking about Lin becoming a part of my kinky
world make my head hurt?
“I feel like I have been alone on this cruise. Where are
you?” she asks as we prepare to disembark.
I look over my shoulder at the captain and crew before
leaning nearer to whisper, “We’ll talk in the car.”
My answer only satisfies her for as long as it takes to walk
down the dock and across the parking lot.
“We’re alone now. You can talk freely.”
I push her against the car and kiss her roughly, controlling
the kiss with brute force. Expectedly, she struggles but I grab her hair and
continue my onslaught. Her resistance only fuels my need.
I’m a sadist, I can’t apologize for that. I won’t.
I’ve enjoyed the softness between us, the gentleness,
because it is so foreign to what my sex life has become, and making love to Lin
is such a fragile thing. But what happens when I release my real needs?
I held back at the club. I gave her pleasure. She needs to
understand how I will react when she finally gives me her pain.
“Ahhh!” she cries out, saying into my mouth, “You’re hurting
me.”
“Yes.” I jerk her into me so that she can feel the hardness
of my cock as it presses into her thigh. I could take her here—the blood raging
through my veins tells me it is so. Her struggle enflames me.
As Doctor Psycho I get paid for such bad behavior.
As part of society I would be imprisoned.
I need to scare Lin. I need to wipe the fantasy out of her
mind—out of my mind—that we can ever have more. I can’t be a husband. I can’t be
a father.
I jerk away, stopping myself before I go too far. I step
away from her and turn to look at the water and harbored boats.
“Tonight was a mistake. I miss my old life, and I’ve been
lying to myself when I’m with you. There’s no way for me to get it back, and
the sooner we face that truth the better off we will both be.” I keep my back
to her knowing she can hear me. “We shouldn’t see each other again.”
“You said you love me.”
“I do love you.” My voice cracks as I spin toward her. “But
I can’t have you. I can’t have the dream.”
She takes a step toward me. “Because of a girl’s accusations
a decade ago?”
I take a step back.
“Because you became the monster the media painted you?”
Is that how she sees Doctor Psycho?
I can’t bear to look at her, I can’t bear to see the hurt in
her eyes, but I don’t have the strength to turn from her when she closes the
gap between us and hugs me.
Oh God.
“I do not fear you. I don’t fear Doctor Psycho.”
Stop, stop, stop.
“I know how it feels to be made love to by you. It is like
you are worshipping my flesh with your kisses, with your touch. You seem like a
man left to die in the desert and I am the water that will save you.”
“I’m a sadist.”
“You keep saying that.”
“You aren’t a masochist.”
“I’m no longer so convinced of that, but that isn’t what you
fear most. The more you are with me, the more you desire that which you once
had.” She lifts her hand to stroke my jaw and I am surprised by the moisture I
feel on my cheek. “I make you want normal back. Living on the fringe of society
has had its place. You created a new life for yourself, but I’m not convinced
it is the right life. You are afraid of what is happening between us because
you are having to face that truth.”
“I could have raped you just now. That’s who I am.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe you.”
We stand looking at each other a long moment.
“Take me home, George. Make love to me. If you need it to be
rough, I will struggle. I will fight you tooth and nail so that it does become
rape if that is what you need from me tonight. But please do not say that we
will not see each other again just so you can continue to hide from the world.”
God, she pisses me off. Because she’s right—she sees right
through me—I have used Lewd Larry’s to hide. But the club isn’t Garrett’s anymore,
it’s mine, and I can’t use Bedlam as a hiding place. I have to be the guy in
the spotlight, and that changes everything, whether I like it or not.
“I need to show you something.” I pull her roughly back to
the car, so roughly she stumbles in her heels.
God, what is wrong with me? I
am not this man! I am not an asshole.
I open her door and push her inside.
There is more fueling tonight’s emotion than my desire to be with Lin and my
fears a relationship between us will never work. It took all of this to make me
realize what has been bothering me.
And I used to be a psychiatrist for a living.
Unbelievable.
I drive Lin across town and pull off the side of the road. I
point through the passenger window at a lit billboard. “That is what I wanted
to show you.”
“Oh. Shit!”
I’ve never heard Lin say a single curse word before, but I’m
not surprised by her reaction.
When I saw Doctor Psycho dressed in white surgical scrubs
stretched ten feet in the sky I had much the same reaction. Jasper borrowed the
likeness from a publicity shot taken a year ago that was never used. I wasn’t
pleased with it then—I look a little too crazed and diabolical for comfort—and
I’m no more at ease with it now.
It’s a strong advertising statement about Bedlam.
It’s a stronger statement about Doctor Psycho.
“What have you done?”
“The new advertising campaign launched this morning.”
“Yes, for the club, but that is—”
“Me.”
“People will see this billboard and think you really are
insane. They will never take you seriously in the medical community again.”
“I don’t expect to ever be taken seriously as a psychiatrist
again.”
She turns away from the sign and gives me a grievous look.
“Why are you so intent on ruining everything?”
“How am I at fault? I am Doctor Psycho. Nothing has
changed.”
Everything has changed.
“Do you think we should have discussed what you were going
to do before you went ahead with this marketing plan?”
“I actually didn’t think the billboards would go up for
another week.”
“So after I leave the country?”
“Yes.”
“And I would have come home to the new you?”
“Not the new me, the guy I’ve been for the last decade that
you don’t want to know anything about.” I scrub my face with my hands. “Look.
All I know is that I want you to be part of my life, and I need to know that
you can be as comfortable with Doctor Psycho being in your life as well as
George Kirkpatrick, because we’re kind of a package deal.”
“You want me to have a relationship with your stage
persona?”
“Yes! No.” I tip her chin to face me, forcing her to meet my
gaze. “I want you to understand that Doctor Psycho is more than just a stage
persona. It’s who I am. I can pretend to be normal George Kirkpatrick when I’m
with you, but the truth is, that guy is more fabricated than the man I am at
work and in the weeks to come that will become even more true.”
She blinks at me.
“As we transition the club, my role is going to become
center stage. I’m going to have to start accepting all the personal engagement
offers that Garrett always took care of but I’ve been turning down. It’s
inevitable that I am going to become more recognizable around town.” I shrug.
“If you want the whole truth…I’m going to be more recognizable across the
entire country as I start making appearances and doing Bondage and Fetish Cons.
That might cause us a problem.”
“Obviously.” She holds my gaze as a tear escapes and runs
down her face. “Until just now, I was beginning to believe that dreams do come
true. That love could conquer all.”
My heart feels as though it dropped into my gut, leaving an
empty void in my chest. “I guess I was hoping for the same thing, Lin, but
maybe we were both wishing for the wrong things.”
With a huff, Lin crosses her arms and throws herself
backward. If looks could kill…
“I can never tell my grandmother who I am dating now.”
“I’ve been nothing but honest with you.”
“I wanted to marry you. I wanted to have your children.”
And I was beginning to trick myself into believing that
was a possibility.
“You should take me home.”
Stony silence marks the ride to her loft, and she climbs out
of the car without even a goodbye. I need to say something to stop this fight.
I need to offer her reassurances that if we really love each other we can make
our relationship work. So why am I sitting in the car being an inert moron?
I did this. I sabotaged us.
Lin enters her home without a backward glance, and I am left
wondering if I just made the biggest mistake of my life.
George
Bedlam is my refuge and salvation. Regardless of what the
club is called, it draws me back again and again. It’s early and the crowd is
just beginning to build. As soon as I enter I am bombarded by the raw sensual
energy that has always made Lewd Larry’s the go-to place in town…except now
it’s Bedlam. That’s what the glowing sign out front proclaims.
Other changes are evident as well. The gilded cages have
been replaced with acrylic boxes labeled
ISOLATION
and inside each the
dancers are bound in straitjackets, which means they have to be more inventive
with their dance routines. They are naked below the waist except for their
stilettos and there is only enough room to squat and gyrate, making their
pussies the real focal point. After several minutes I am bored and it occurs to
me that their act needs to vary nightly. The straitjackets could be exchanged
for hospital gowns,
or something
. I’ll suggest it to the entertainment
director.
Suddenly I see that one of the girls has discovered she can
walk up the sides by pressing her back to one wall and her feet to the other.
It is an erotic crawl up and back down. She manages to maintain a precariously
balanced hover and shake her shoulders maniacally. I look into her face,
realizing she’s looking straight at me.
Is this little show for me,
sweetheart?
I meet her gaze and see a dark smudged trail of ruined mascara
trailing over her cheeks. Drool runs out of the corners of her mouth. Suddenly
she does a fairly entertaining twist of her head, bringing scenes from
The
Exorcist
to mind. Interesting.
I smile at her as the wheels in my mind start turning more
quickly. My body responds to her carnal portrayal of clinically insane—a role
she has down perfectly—and I decide the only conversation I need to have with
the entertainment director is to tell him I want her to teach a workshop to the
other dancers. I make a note to myself to schedule her for a private interview.
I need to discover if she has any interest in privately entertaining some of
our Members’ Only clients with slightly more macabre fetish interests which
were previously unserviceable…meaning, under Garrett’s watch.
I can clearly imagine very distinct possibilities.
A server dressed in a revealing, tight, short white nurse’s
uniform and white lace-edged thigh highs and spiked heels hurries by carrying a
tray of plastic bags filled with cocktails. The IV-inspired drinks will hang
behind the diner’s chair, and the long tubing will act as a straw. It’s a
fantastic concept, but it has yet to be confirmed that the guests will enjoy
it—or if it is even cost-effective. I hate thinking about the bottom line. I
don’t know how Garrett handled it all on his own. Me? I’ll begin interviews for
a business manager as soon as the dust settles from renovations.
It is the end of an era. Out with the old, in with the new,
and I’m the guy in charge.
I miss Garrett.
He was the mastermind who saw
the need for a haven for sexual deviants to come together that not only adhered
to safe, sane and consensual philosophy but led by example.
I wonder what he would think of all the changes? Am I being
completely arrogant in believing that the changes we’re making are improving
the club? I mean, if Lewd Larry’s was hot and happening, Bedlam is inferno.
He would probably nod in approval. And he would understand
my chagrin.
It’s hard to face change. He did so after his partner Tony’s
murder…on my advice. It’s easier to face tomorrow if every corner doesn’t hold
a ghost from the past. New beginnings inspire hope. I think that’s why I was so
pleased when Lin called out of the blue. I was so dreading the changes I needed
to make to the club I delayed beyond reason, and seeing her gave me something
to look forward to and a way to avoid the change as it happened.
I’ve never been the avoidance kind of guy and no one would
ever make the mistake of calling me a procrastinator.
Was Lin seriously only a distraction?
Sure, I could analyze myself and come up with something
regarding how Lin makes me feel like the man I was before Gigi’s charges, and
Gigi reminds me of how my life came to be as it is now. But the honest truth is
that seeing Gigi makes me realize my feelings for her when she was younger
weren’t as philanthropic as I’d like to remember. I was in love with her. It
hardly matters that I didn’t cross the sexual line as defined by the society I
live in. I wanted to.
I still want her.
Can I face that it’s time to move on? Possibly with Lin?
* * * * *
“Are you all right?”
I look up to see Joel and behind him two men-in-black, part
of the fine security team that protects the patrons of Lewd Larry’s—Bedlam,
now, I guess—from drunks, bullies and customers who forget the rules. They are
here in case of trouble. I am disappointed and made even more desolate that he
thinks it would only take two men to contain me. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Is there anything I can do? I can listen…”
Joel sits at the table without an invite to do so and lifts the bottle of
whiskey that was sitting in front of me. The liquid swishes, exposing that the
bottle is half empty.
“There isn’t much to say.”
“Sure, George.”
“You don’t have to sound so condescending.”
Joel shrugs and pours himself a glass of the best whiskey
money can buy. He throws back a shot and sighs loudly. “Damn fine product.”
“You aren’t going away, are you?”
“Nope.” He pours a second shot but leaves it sitting in
front of him.
“Are you on duty?”
“Does it matter?” He lifts the shot and throws it back. He
pushes the bottle closer to me.
“You’ve made your point.”
“Have I? Because I have all night and this is damn fine
whiskey. And if you want the honest truth—”
“I don’t.”
“You kind of look like shit. Let’s go to my office and
talk.”
“How about we just leave me the fuck alone and let me enjoy
my bottle of whiskey?”
“At least tell me why
we’re
drinking.” Joel pours
himself another shot.
I don’t let Joel’s nonchalance fool me. He doesn’t have a
kinky bone in his body, and he’s been married to the same woman for longer than
he’s worked for us. He’s judgmental, homophobic and paraphobic…and still he
works for us. Garrett originally hired him because he knew the place would be
distracting and he wanted someone who could focus on the job at hand, keeping
all the deviants safe. Seemed risky then. Still seems risky. But Joel does a
good job as our director of security.
I pour another shot and throw it back. “I think I’m in
love.”
Joel looks surprised. “Reeeally?”
I nod, hoping I don’t look as dejected as I feel. “I’ve
totally fucked up. Ruined everything. I keep thinking she’ll call but—”
“You could call her.”
“This one is her move. The problem is I don’t think she can
accept me for who I am. She loves who I am here,” I thump my fist to my chest
before waving my arms out to my sides to illustrate, “but hates who I am
here
.
You get that, right? You’re a straight-and-narrow kind of guy. You’d have a
hard time falling in love with a woman in here.”
“No offense, but I wouldn’t fall in love with a woman here.”
He lifts his glass apologetically.
“None taken.” I clink his glass with mine and then, waggling
my eyebrows, tease, “But you never know what could happen if you let your guard
down.”
“Not a chance.”
“So I’m doomed to fail with her.”
Joel shrugs even though it wasn’t really a question.
“It’s a bad dream, it’s all a bad dream. Garrett, Celia,
Thomas. Gigi. I just need to wake up.”
“Who’s Gigi?”
“One of the two women I’m in love with. Haven’t you been
paying attention? She’s in ICU, in critical condition. She could die without
ever having known how I feel.”
“You didn’t mention you were in love with two women, and I
am sorry to hear that about Gigi. So the woman we were just talking about who
is having a hard time accepting you as you are, she doesn’t mind that you are
in love with her and someone else?”
“Oh, she’d mind. She’s as vanilla as you are, and I’m a fool
for ever believing we had a future together.”
Joel makes a sympathetic sound but offers no advice. He
pours us both another shot but I wave mine away. I’m done. “I need to get out
of here. I should be at the hospital.”
“Whoa, cowboy.” Joel stands and I am suddenly surrounded by
the security team I pay to protect my staff and clients. “You aren’t driving
anywhere until you are one-hundred-percent sober. Let’s get you to the office
so you can sleep it off.”
* * * * *
By the time I’m ready to leave Bedlam dawn is breaking and
I’m exhausted. I remember I dropped my tux at the cleaners for the museum event
and that I should probably pick it up, except there’s no real rush if I’m no
longer accompanying Lin. Not that I don’t want to escort her. The question is
does she want me to?
I want to see her.
Desperately.
As I do a final check of the club, I dial her number without
too much thought as to what I’m going to say and when her answering machine
picks up I am unprepared to leave a message. I hang up.
One of my Dominants approaches. “There you are. Aida was
looking for you.”
Aida?
I have to think for a minute before I remember
she is the new day-shift receptionist. My cell vibrates and the caller ID
identifies the number as coming from the club. I don’t answer the call. “Looks
like she found me. Any idea what she wants?”
“You have a visitor waiting in your office.”
* * * * *
Seeing Lin, happiness swells in my chest and I am tempted to
race across the room and pull her into my arms. I would promise her anything…
Except years of practicing self-control keep my feet in
place. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She faces a wall covered with years of past event
posters—Auctions, Spanksgiving, All Hallow’s Evil. They are bright, graphic,
erotically captivating. She doesn’t look away from the art when she asks, “What
happens at an auction?”
I didn’t expect that. Curiosity instead of anger?
“Umm—” I approach her slowly. “Each spring we have an event
for charity.”
“I can figure that out from the advertisement and I don’t
live in a cave. I know the event happens in the spring. Is it true people
auction themselves as sex slaves?”
“Yes.”
She pivots and I see the flash of anger in her eyes before
she shutters it away. “Strangers? Buy each other? They live as slaves?”
I nod. “Usually for thirty days.”
“You’re serious?”
I chuckle.
“You’re insane.”
I edge as close to her as I can but don’t touch her.
“To you insane, to me a normal day on the job. Our lives are
polar opposites. You live by society’s sexual norm. Missionary position, lights
out. You will never be able to understand unless you’re willing to venture into
my world—as a participant, not a tourist.”
She shakes her head and crosses her arms. “I don’t believe
you.”
I’m confused. “You don’t believe me? I’m professionally
trained in how the psyche facilitates, and you can’t possibly understand until
you experience—”
“The auction, George.” She finally looks at me and I’m glad,
except for the fact that her countenance resonates with pure irritation. “Why
would anyone do that? Why would anyone go with a stranger? A sadist? Do you
know how dangerous that is?”
“You’re telling me that? Gigi is at the hospital—where she’s
going to be a long time in recovery and is extremely lucky to be alive—because
she sought out a stranger. Think about that. Think about all the unknowns. Will
he be gentle or cruel? Will he smell good? Taste good? Or will he—”
“Stop. I don’t want to hear this.”
She starts to back away but I grab her elbow and pull her
closer. She’s trembling and it’s very telling that she is so emotionally
disturbed by the idea of auction.
“This is precious to me.” Stroking her cheek, I catch a tear
and hold it up for her to see. “This pain that you offer me so freely. You’re
confused. You’re tied up in knots. There is an emotional cyclone ripping you to
bits from the inside out because you want what you know I can give you.”
She squares her chin with denial.
“You want to share my kinky lifestyle with me but you’re
afraid to admit it. Spring isn’t so far away. Perhaps you want me to force you
into an auction?” I pull my cellphone from my pocket and load a video. I turn
the screen to face her so that she can see the recording of the night Garrett
bought Celia. She could push it away, refuse to watch, but she doesn’t.
“It’s so loud. The clapping, the screaming,” she says.
“The audio will quiet soon.” I don’t turn down the volume.
“The audience was insane that night. I think they knew something special was
about to happen.”
I watch her reactions. Her wide eyes. She covers her mouth
when Celia’s dress is torn off and she is forced to walk the stage mostly nude.
“This is the night Celia met Garrett.”
She doesn’t take her eyes from the screen. “My God.”
“Garrett paid a quarter of a million dollars for the honor
of becoming Celia’s Master.”
“What would a man expect to get for that much money?”
“Complete submission.”
“A woman who obeys without thought, suffers abuse without
complaint.”
“It isn’t abuse. Not what we do. Participants adhere to a
strict code of ethics that includes being safe, sane and consensual.”
“Gigi consented to having her larynx crushed? Because the
man who harmed her clearly wasn’t behaving safely.”
My shoulders slump, not because I’m defeated but I’m so damn
tired. Lin sees herself in competition with Gigi, and nothing I say or do can
change that. Our conversation hasn’t been about Lin lightening up and giving
the lifestyle a try, it’s still about trying to get me to give it up. “I’m not
so certain he was from the BDSM community. Sure, I thought so at first. It
seemed fairly obvious, but more and more it just doesn’t feel right. I would
more likely believe a serial killer that exploits the needs and desires of
masochists.”