Obsessive Compulsion (11 page)

Now, none of us are really sure what to do
about it. Our chosen lifestyle isn’t for everyone. It’s
misunderstood. Hell, our society can’t even except the simple idea
of two men loving each other, much less if those two men happen to
like wearing leather while one paddles the other.

A slapping cry from the stage brings that
thought home just before Joey’s moan of ecstasy fills the club. No,
most people wouldn’t even try to take five minutes out of their
self-absorbed, cookie-cutter existence to try and understand. They
wouldn’t see how much Cam and Joey love each other. They wouldn’t
care that it’s mutual and only
taboo
because society thinks
it has any kind of right to decide how we choose to live our
lives.

“Twitch?”

I snap my attention back to Emma. She’s
smiling up at me with her beaming, baby doll green eyes. Emma has a
special gift for seeing every part of a person, from the inside
out. The sympathy in her eyes is genuine as is the encouragement in
her voice. “Go check on her. I’ll work on changing Master’s mind.”
She winks then giggles as Brandon spanks her butt.

I glance to Brandon, knowing that Emma has
already won the discussion that hasn’t happened yet. That man would
do anything for her. Brandon shoos me out of the clubroom and I’m
thankful for it. I’m not sure where Charlie’s disappeared to, but I
think I need to take a few minutes to cool-down anyway. I nearly
erupted when I caught sight of her and Crow together, but Emma’s
right. I
am
the dumb one if I thought, even for a second,
that anything was going on between the two.

Doesn’t change the fact that she fled from
my apartment on Wednesday and hasn’t spoken to me since. There is a
high probability that whatever Charlie and I had been trying to
form between us has used up all its restarts. I don’t blame her for
bailing on me. I would too, if I could.

I was prepared for it, that inevitable point
at which my ticks become too much to handle or brush off. The fact
that it was my slip with her name that chased her off is what bugs
me. It wasn’t my ticks, my rechecking the door lock, my unplugged
stove or even the gallery of her artwork. It was simply her name.
Charlotte.

My brain has been obsessing over that
nonstop for two days. Why does she hate her name? Why had it made
her look so upset? Why is she standing in my room?

I close the door slowly behind me after
walking into my room and finding Charlie standing by the window,
next to my telescope, her silhouette outlined by moonlight. She’s
dressed in a similar outfit to last week, except the ribbon laced
down her back is blue. She’s also wearing a long-sleeved, black
latex shirt under her corset that covers every inch of skin up to
her chin. Even her hands are covered by leather gloves resembling
mine.

“Hello,” she glances at me over her
shoulder, her long fiery braid shimmering across her back with the
movement, then she looks back out into the night. “Did Mistress Cat
speak to you?”

“No, I haven’t seen her.” I edge cautiously
into the room. I leave the lights off because I don’t want to force
Charlie to watch me flick the switch back and forth who knows how
many times given my current emotional state.

Charlie nods, and I wait for her to explain
the question, but she points at the telescope instead. “You like
astronomy?”

I step closer. “I do, but Pierce is the real
astronomy nerd.”

“Kyle? Really?” She raises an eyebrow in
disbelief, then corrects herself. “Pierce, I mean. Damn, I’m gonna
slip in the clubroom eventually.”

“It’s alright,” I try to continue the small
talk. At least we’re talking. “We don’t have to use the nicknames
when it’s just us, unless we’re roleplaying. But, yeah, Kyle got me
that for Christmas a few years ago after I expressed an interest. I
just like looking, but he keeps charts and logbooks.”

“No kidding?” she laughs.

Another step closer. “I keep it here because
there’s less light pollution, and it gives me something to do on
Friday nights.”

“Because you don’t participate.”

It’s a statement, and the truth hurts. Yeah,
Friday nights are lonely, even when I’m surrounded by friends. My
eyes lower. “Yeah. Brandon and I, well we
used
to play Gin
Rummy, but now he has Emma to take care of. I don’t mind it, it’s
just that solitaire can get old really fast.”

“I want to change that. I don’t want you to
play solitaire anymore.” Charlie turns away from the window and
clears the remaining space between us. “I want to start over. With
this
.” She motions between our bodies, then touches one
gloved finger to my chin to pull my gaze up. “I don’t want to
forget last Friday or what happened this week, but I want to try
again. If we end up playing cards or watching stars all night,
that’s fine, but I want another chance to do this right.”

“
You
want another chance?” The
statement makes no sense to me. “I’m the one that,” her finger
against my lips silences me.

“We
both
messed up, Ian, but I’d like
to try again.” She drops her hand and clenches it at her side. “If
you want to, that is.”

“Of course I do,” I can’t get the words out
fast enough as I reach for her hand. Even with layers of leather
between us, I can feel the energizing effects from her touch. I
want more, so much more, but I don’t know how to make my mind and
my body cooperate. “Charlie, I…”

My voice fades, her beautiful eyes sucking
the breath from me. I think back to the watercolor in my apartment,
knowing that’s what I want more than anything. The two of us,
together and inseparable. Before I can say what’s in my heart,
possibly ruining this new chance, a knock on the door saves me.
“Come in.”

Victoria enters, fully dressed for
Domination in royal purple and black. Her eyes glance to our hands
and she smiles, then the smile disappears. When she speaks, it’s
all business.

“We have some corrections to make,” she
begins as she closes the door behind her, flips on the light switch
for the two wall sconces and marches into the room. “What happened
last Friday will
not
happen again. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mistress,” both Charlie and I speak at
the same time, our hands still holding tight. Charlie’s right. We
both made mistakes, and so we’re going to face Victoria’s whip
together.

“Good,” Victoria gives a single nod then
hands Charlie three bundles of rope, the same black nylon from the
storeroom. “Miss Scarlet, you will begin by demonstrating what you
attempted to do, foolishly on your own and unsupervised, and I will
tell you why it went wrong.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Charlie lets go of my hand
and bows her head while taking the rope. I hate seeing her being
submissive like this, but I know it’s necessary.

“And
you
,” Victoria switches her
viperous gaze on me and I swallow hard. Yeah, she’s still angry
with me for not stopping what happened. “Twitch, I expect you to
act like a proper senior club member from this point forward. You
can’t allow your emotions to overpower your common sense or the
rules of The Stables. Understood?”

My head and shoulders bow respectfully low.
“Yes, Mistress Cat. It will never happen again. I promise.”

“Very well,” Victoria takes a step back and
motions towards the restraining bench in my room that has been
there, unused, since day one. “Begin.”

I’m both thankful of and aggravated by
Victoria’s timing. I think Ian had been on the verge of saying
something very important, probably too important and way too soon
for either of us. We can’t even get through one date together, much
less start discussing anything more serious like emotional
attachment. Glancing to him as he sits down on the bench, I know
that avoiding emotional attachment to him is a foolish battle.

I’m pretty sure that, despite my heart’s
earlier attempts to abandon ship, this ship is going down with all
hands on deck. The beautiful man that is Ian Rider is a giant sea
of concise complexities that is drawing me in like a whirlpool.
Damn his eyes.

I restrain his ankles to the bench like I
had last week, waiting for Victoria to correct me. She remains a
silent statue, standing with feet apart, arms behind her back and
her spine straight. She reminds me of a drill sergeant, except her
uniform is made from leather, latex and surgical steel. I’d rather
face the wrath of some jarhead in camouflage than ever have
Victoria disappointed in me again.

I restrain his wrists, and I ask the same
question I did last week. “Is that good, Twitch?”

“Yes,” he starts, then stops with a quick
glance to Victoria. When his eyes turn back to me, they are filled
with unexpected shame. “It’s a little tight, Miss Scarlet.”

I know I tied it exactly like I did last
week, which means he lied to me before. A puff of air flutters past
my lips, highlighting my dislike for this discovery. “Would you
like me to retie it?”

“Yes, please,” he whispers as he lowers his
gaze from mine, giving me his final admission to his dishonesty. He
did
lie to me last week.

I begin untying the rope, but Victoria steps
in. “Stop. Miss Scarlet, what have you determined by Twitch’s
behavior with the wrist binding?”

I don’t hesitate to call Ian out on it. “He
was dishonest with me last week when he said the binding was fine.
Didn’t you, Twitch?”

Ian’s lip stutters and he nods, his head
lowering further. “Yes, Miss Scarlet. I’m very sorry.”

Victoria tsks with a slow shake of the head.
“What is the
first
rule of Submission, Twitch?”

“Honesty with your partner,” he replies.

“Honesty.” Victoria repeats the word and
lets it hang in the room for a few long moments. “Honesty is the
foundation of everything we do here. Without it, you can’t trust.
Without trust, you can’t build a proper bond. When honesty and
trust breaks down between partners, it all falls apart.”

I glance from Ian’s lowered head to Victoria
as her voice loses its commanding tone near the end. I’m sure it
has something to do with whatever is going on between her, Saul and
Austin. It’s none of my business, but I hope, whatever it is, it
works out for them. The club needs all three of them, and so does
Emma’s new family. I glance back at Ian. Maybe my new family,
too.

“The fact that Miss Scarlet can read your
body language so well,” Victoria continues, “is an encouraging
sign. So, I will let your infraction go unpunished.
This
time. I assume you’ve learned your lesson?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Ian keeps his head bowed
for a moment longer then slowly raises his hazel eyes to me. “I
promise. I will never lie to you again.”

The way he’s looking at me, into me, leaves
no room for doubt. A smile slips onto my lips as I reach out to
caress his cheek with a gloved hand. “I know you won’t, sweetie.
Now, hold still while I retie your wrists.”

“Yes, Miss Scarlet. Thank you.”

He returns my smile as I step to his side
and redo the knot. A flicking glance to Victoria rewards me with an
approving nod. After two attempts, Ian is satisfied with the
tension level against his wrists. I slip two fingers between the
rope and his wrists so I can gage it for next time.

“Very good,” Victoria raises an eyebrow at
my action. “When you mentioned you had prior experience with
binding, I didn’t know it was this extensive. I thought you were
like Emma – completely
new
.”

“I am, Mistress Cat.” I move back to the
front of Ian and keep my eyes locked with his. “I’ve used ropes and
binding for art displays and naive bedroom play. I’m grateful for
your guidance so I can do this properly for Twitch.”

She nods once, seemingly satisfied with my
answer. “Proceed.”

I ask Ian to sit and then look around the
room. “Last Friday, I blindfolded him with gauze, but you didn’t
bring any?”

“Correct,” she affirms. “When you mentioned
the blindfolding, I knew that was part of the problem. With Twitch,
because of his OCD, a blindfold takes away his ability to focus and
channel his compulsive urges where they need to be – on you. Isn’t
that right, Twitch?”

Ian’s head lowers again. “Yes, Mistress.”
I’m angry again for a split second until he raises his gaze back to
mine. “I didn’t actually know until I freaked out last time, I
swear. When I explained what happened to my therapist, she
recommended leaving the blindfold off so I can look at you.
Victoria agrees.”

“You told your… I mean,” I inhale and then
let it out. “I’m sorry. It’s not my business.”

“Yes, it is,” Ian corrects. “I tell Michelle
everything. I have to. She specializes in OCD and helps me figure
things out.”

“Alright,” I caress his cheek again and he
immediately calms. “No more blindfolds. But,” I change to a playful
tone, “no cheating either.” I wink and he grins. “You remember the
game, and the word to say when you don’t want to play anymore?”

“I do, Miss Scarlet.”

“Good.” I try to forget that Victoria is
there, watching us. I want to focus all my energy on Ian so he can
do the same. Victoria is there as an Assist, but right now, it’s
just me an Ian. His comfort is all that matters to me. Pulling off
the glove from my right hand, I wink at him again. “Then let’s
play.”

I begin with simple drawings. A line, a
cross, a diamond and even a heart. When I draw a macaroni noodle,
Ian snorts. I kiss him extra for that. As the game continues, more
complicated drawings and words leading into longer kisses, the rest
of the room vanishes. It’s just me, Ian, and his strange, beautiful
eyes.

After dotting the ‘i’ in
Charlie
, his
smile warms into a lopsided, boyish grin before he whispers my
name. The way he says it causes tingling ripples to cascade over my
skin. He says it like it was a special secret, just for us. A
secret like the feelings behind the way he’s looking at me. The
kiss deepens, we both let out simultaneous moans, and my hands are
roaming paths up his inner thighs.