Chapter 17 #2
Then again, sitting around and being served would probably drive Drake nuts. He had almost as much energy as she did.
Finished with clean-up, the Doms went to look at something in Drake’s garage while the women took their drinks to the deck. Drake’s big deck overlooked the Sound. A table and chairs at one end, the other end had four love seats grouped around an oval oak coffee table.
They’d been discussing variations on negotiations before a scene. “I don’t think I understand the difference between inclusive and exclusive,” Ray said.
“With inclusive, the Top will do only the specific things you agree upon. Maybe they’d say, there’ll be spanking up to level five…” Hope grinned. “…and a blowjob.”
“Okay. And exclusive is…”
“You have a limits list.” Rona held up an imaginary list. “The Top can and will do anything as long as it’s not on the limit list.”
“Ooooh.”
“It’s not a bad thing,” MacKensie said in a judicious tone. “It’s probably better, especially with newer Tops and or newer bottoms to be pretty specific at first.”
“Although a lot of us enjoy the added trepidation of being unsure what our evil Doms will come up with.” Hope grinned when both Rona and Mac raised their glasses in agreement.
Interesting. She hadn’t realized at the time, but Drake had been inclusive in the beginning and was now moving to exclusive.
With a wry smile, she raised her glass, joining the others, and they all laughed.
“Then there’s some kinksters who voluntarily give up their safewords. Or are into consensual non-consent.” Hope looked at MacKensie. “Steel still feels bad about scaring you so badly.”
Ray raised her eyebrows. “Someone scared you?”
Mac scowled. “Alex had a kind of stalker ex who told Steel I wanted a rape-play scene. Gave him a safeword and all that…only I was so new, I didn’t even know what a safeword was.
He grabbed me as I was coming back from the bathroom.
Thankfully, Alex showed up before Steel got further than grabbing me. ”
Ray stared, feeling her mouth go dry. Talk about scary.
It roused her worry about Marisol. Again.
Ray eyed the women. All submissives, all college grads. “I don’t suppose any of you went to UW?”
“Nope,” Mac said. “I got my vet degree in Iowa.”
Hope raised her hand. “UCLA. Dad was based in San Diego those years.” Right. Hope’s father was a naval officer, which was why she’d been in Bremerton to begin with.
“Not me either.” Rona smiled at Hope. “I’m another California grad. I got my Master’s in health care management from USC in LA.”
“Damn,” Ray muttered.
“Do you have questions about UW?” Hope asked. “Peter and I know some of the professors. Some students too.”
“My questions are…” She fidgeted with the ring on her pointer finger, turning it around and around. How much of her past did she want to share? “A friend is an undergrad there and started dating a Dom in the campus BDSM club.”
Rona took a sip of her wine and considered Ray. “If she’s interested in BDSM, I don’t see a problem. But you’re shaking.”
Oh hell, she wasn’t handling this well. Dammit. Now they were all frowning at her.
And apparently giving off worried signals since a second later, Drake sat down beside her so closely her hips and shoulders were against his solidness. “Aralia, what is wrong?” He took her hand, and the warmth of his fingers showed how cold she was.
“She said she has a friend with a Dom boyfriend who belongs to the UW BDSM club,” Hope told him.
And now, the other three Doms were joining the group.
Ray wanted to crawl under the love seat and pull the cushions over herself. Instead, she forced herself to stay still. What could she say? Did she want to spill everything? Would it send her into a panic attack?
Drake curved his fingers around her chin, turning her face to him. Forcing her to meet his concerned gaze. “Is this related to what happened to you before?”
“Freaking hell, why do you have to be so perceptive?”
A snort of amusement came from one of the other Doms.
Drake’s lips twitched. “Since this incident still bothers you, perhaps it is time to share. Let us help.” He moved his hand to her shoulder, rubbing gently.
In the facing seat, Hope was holding hands with Peter, expression concerned.
Leaning on Alex, Mac gave Ray a half-smile. Her eyes held an unexpected sympathy, as if she knew how it felt to be so exposed.
Rona simply looked warm and encouraging. Standing behind her, Simon rested his hands on her shoulders, his gaze on Ray.
All the Doms were watching her, in fact. Not like prey but more like…someone they needed to protect.
Great, she’d flipped the Dominant FIND OUT WHAT’S WRONG AND FIX IT button.
In her head, C3PO was saying, “There’ll be no escape for the princess this time.”
She sighed, caving in, and Drake knew. He kissed her fingers, then held her hand in his big one. Strong and warm.
How could something so simple make her feel safe?
“Okay. My third year at the University of Washington. I…I met a man who claimed he was a Dom—and I was”—the feeling of humiliation welled inside her—“thrilled. Obsessed with him and obsessed with trying everything.”
“Oh, I remember that time,” Mac said. “Discovering the needs and cravings we feel has a name, then wanting a man who can satisfy those needs? A lot of us went through that. And you were all of, what, twenty-two?”
“Twenty-one,” Ray whispered.
“A puppy, full of hormones and emotions and no experience,” Simon said.
The others nodded.
Hope murmured, “Oh yeah, those days.”
Huh, maybe her behavior hadn’t been completely stupid.
Rona leaned forward. “Frenzy”—she used air-quotes around the word—“is very common with newbies. And becomes a problem when they ignore safety in their need to explore. Too many get into trouble.”
“As you did,” Drake prompted. Because he knew.
“As I did. The Dom—he used the name Crypto—took me to a play party given by the campus BDSM club. It was in a big house with portable equipment, and everyone wore masks. I tried stuff. Impact stuff. Floggers and crops. Purely having fun, you know? Until it got late, and I realized people were leaving.”
She bit her lip, turning away from Simon’s darkening gaze, and pressed her face against Drake’s shoulder. He pulled her closer, and his chest rose and fell with his slow, steady breathing. As emotions stormed through her, he felt like an age-old oak, rooted deep, unwavering.
“What did he do?” Hope blurted out the question. “Did he hurt you? I’ll kill him, kill him dead.”
Ray choked on a hysterical laugh. Damn, she loved her friend.
Drake squeezed her hand. “One step at a time, ma chérie. What happened next?”
“He brought me a drink after a light flogging, and I sucked it down. Then I felt funny. Dropped into this weird space where I absolutely loved everyone, especially him. He sat down with me and kissed me and said all the Doms adored me. It made me feel special, and I wanted to hug and kiss them all.”
She pulled away from Drake, wringing her hands together. “That’s not me. Way not me.”
“Might have been ecstasy—MDMA. The emergency room sees a fair amount of it.” Rona shook her head. “There’s a loss of inhibition along with a feeling of trusting everyone. You can’t give informed consent after taking a mood-altering substance.”
“I…” Despite what Rona said, she still felt shame. “I let them touch me; I remember that much, but then I saw I was the only woman still there. Just me and some men, all wearing masks.”
“Damn them,” Alex muttered almost inaudibly.
“I tried to get up and leave, demanded my clothes. One man said he’d get them and said go ahead and get hydrated while he looked for them.
Somebody handed me another drink, and I was so thirsty, I drank it.
I think.” Her skin felt as if it was crawling.
“My memory is all messed up after that. Only bits and pieces, sounds and feelings.”
Drake made a growling sound, stopped. Then his voice was calm and smooth. “Did you end up in an emergency room?”
“Uh-uh. I woke up outside my little duplex, half lying against the front door. Dressed. And sticky and everything was sore. I had”—she pulled in a breath—“bite marks and whip marks.”
“Fuck,” Peter said under his breath.
Suddenly, Hope shoved onto the loveseat, crowding her, hugging her. And crying. “No, it’s not right, not fair. You’re one of the nicest people ever, and no!” She was shaking Ray and yelling and—
Ray blinked against the tears, sobbed. Drake lifted her onto his lap, arms around her, and Hope was holding her hands while Ray bawled like a baby.
“It’s fucking messed up,” Peter was saying. “Ecstasy to make her think she wanted it, and afterward something, maybe ketamine, to keep her from fighting and mess with her memory.”
Alex scrubbed his face with his hands. “If she reported it to the police, the Dom could say he left when she started flirting with others. And—it was a BDSM party.”
“Which rules out any sympathy from law enforcement,” Mac muttered. She realized Ray was listening. “Did you go to the police?”
“No. For exactly the reasons you said. What could I tell them? My memory was messed up, especially at first. Parts came back weeks later…along with flashbacks.” So many flashbacks. The feeling of hands. Of pain. Of being held down.
She shivered—and Drake’s voice was a smooth croon. “Non, non, you are safe here, bébé. Safe with me.”
Yes. She leaned into him and managed to look at the others.
“I couldn’t do nothing. So I called the number for the BDSM club and talked to the president.
Told him what had happened, about Crypto.
The president sounded angry and promised they’d investigate and put a stop to the abuse.
I figured it was the best I could do to keep another woman from the same kind of… of assault.”
Drake kissed her cheek. “It’s more than many would have done.”
“Everyone wore masks. Hell, I guess you wouldn’t recognize anyone afterward? Did you see Crypto again or—” Peter had apparently put on his lawyer hat.