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“I guess. I asked him if he'd blindfold me so I can't see anyone, but he said he needs to be able to see my eyes.” Restlessly, Archie moved her shoulders. “It's no different to playing in the barn, I guess. I've been naked in front of just about everyone in the club, being tortured by the resident sadist, so this shouldn't be too different. I just…I don't want…”
“It's okay, sweetheart. Just say it.”
“I did some research online. I've kept it hidden from Jasper because it's mainly porn sites and how-to guides. I mean, it's kinda hot to watch, but when I put myself in that position, imagine it happening to me, I don't know if I can do it. You know me, Connie, I love pain. But I don't want to be in full view of everyone and tap out by blurting my safeword. It reflects badly on Jasper, and I don’t want to tarnish his reputation.”
“That's the wrong way to think about it. A safeword is used for a purpose. Tapping out if things get to be too much is the onlyway to handle it, Archie. Jasper loves inflicting pain if it's welcome, not because you feel you should be pushing through the pain to make him happy. Jasper's reputation is solid, so don't worry about putting a dent in it.”
“But—”
“It's not about enduring pain, Archie. Push yourself as far as you and your limits will allow—Jasper will be proud of you. If you take a few seconds more than you thought you could, that's an achievement. But if you negate your own limits, suffer unnecessarily, your Dom will make your life hell.” Connie lifted her eyebrow when her friend opened her mouth. “We've had this discussion more than once prior to this, sweetheart. I'm sure Jasper has spoken to you about it as well.”
“Well, yeah,” Archie muttered unhappily.
Connie pursed her lips. “Have you considered telling him you don't want to do it? No, let me amend that. Have you considered telling him you don't want to do it under those circumstances? Tell him you're worried, explain to him that you have concerns about participating in a demonstration which is going to garner some attention within the club.”
“I think he's looking forward to it—I don't want to ruin that for him.”
“Is he looking forward to it because he gets to show off his skills in front of everyone, do you think? Or because he gets to experience something new and exciting with you?” Oh, now that was making her think, Connie mused, watching Archie's eyes lose focus.
“Maybe both?”
“Maybe,” Connie agreed slowly. “I think one will outweigh the other. Can you guess which?”
Archie lost her unfocused look as her lips curved into an adorable smile. Blushing, she ducked her head. “He likes spending time with me, doing new things. I, uh…do you think he'll listen if I talk to him? Exhibitionism is fine, I kind of enjoy it, but this just seems…intimate. Too intimate to share, you know?”
“Yeah, I get it. Talk to him, Archie, it's the only way you'll get where you need to be.” Popping the lid on her juice, Connie drank deep. Gesturing with the bottle, she decided to change subjects and give Archie time to process what she had to do. “Last week, we spoke about nightmares. Namely, the volume and frequency of yours. Did you implement any of the counteractive measures we discussed?”
This was where Anarchy's eager tongue would lose some of its flexibility. As if on cue, Archie shut down, bringing in her walls and sinking further into the couch with a mulish expression. It was that damn stubborn streak keeping her friend shrouded in the nightmares. In her subconscious, the words she didn't say festered and manifested in dreams.
Connie had been in that position once, tormented by nightmares about Evan and what he'd done. Sure, she'd closed herself off, just like Anarchy, but Connie didn't have—at that time—the same support that Archie did now. Connie had spent years smacking down the ugly memories to fit into a box that kept popping open, and she didn't want that for Anarchy.
Look where that had gotten her, she thought with an inner eyeroll. Thane had wandered along, whistling a merry tune, and kicked her box into a mess of splinters and nails. Spilling all her secrets into the open, coaxing her into sticking a broom into all the corners and disturbing the monsters she'd learned to live with. Asshole.
Okay, sweetheart, you don't want to answer that question, let's shake things up.Connie sipped her juice, shifted her ass carefully on the soft couch cushion, then drove straight in for the kill. “What do you remember most about that night, Archie?
The color leeched from her face, and she swallowed. “Dinner with Bodie and Braun. I cooked chicken.”
It was the safe answer Connie expected. A good memory, one with friends, which occurred before her world narrowed down to blood and death. “Was Jasper with you?”
Archie nodded slowly. “It was the night Bodie came home from the hospital. I cooked while she was asleep on the couch. Jasper and Braun were busy taking one of the beds apart upstairs so they could bring it down for Bodie. It was very domestic.” A tentative smile brushed her mouth. “Bodie wasn't hungry, and I was just pushing food around, but the Doms cleaned their plates.”
“Of course they did. I've heard great things about your chicken, sweetie. Jasper takes a lot of pride in your skills. What happened after dinner?”
She winced, her lips twisting. “Eight strokes with the sjambok. Master Jasper brought his favorite toy out to play for a punishment. It wasn't so bad. At least, not as bad as I expected it to be, I guess. It leaves a wicked burn and some serious welts.”
“I bet. After that?”
“Well, I think I made him happy with a blowjob. He was full-on sadist that night. Squeezing the welts, fucking my ass for the first time…” Anarchy flushed a deeper shade of red, the color staining the curves of her ears and her cheeks. She squirmed, her body reliving whatever Jasper had done to her. “We were arguing when we left Avalon. I was so fucking angry with him and Atticus for telling me I couldn't go to a mandatory staff meeting the next day. They were being their typical Dom selves, ploughing through my objections so they got what they wanted.”
Connie scratched her cheek, knowing that it hadn't mattered in the end what the Doms had wanted or what they'd planned for. By that point, events were already in motion that would lead to two dead men lying in the road, and Jasper being temporarily paralyzed. “Were you arguing in the truck?”
“I…no. I shouted at Jasper when he put me in it. I was livid that his father was able to yank everyone's strings to his tune. It was so unfair that he had that power over people. I guess he still does,” she muttered with a sneer. “We've been trying to track Dominic and his wife down, but the closest we've got so far is ruling out one of the decoy couples he hired. Atticus has the most amazing team; I love working with them. It's not the same as graphic design, but that's good, right?”
An excellent attempt at diverting the conversation away from the point, Connie noted. Very smooth indeed, but not as effective as Anarchy hoped. They'd reached this point in previous sessions, so a lot of the details were known to her already, but Connie had no intention of letting Archie steer this session. “Loving your job is always a good thing. So, you weren't fighting with Jasper while he drove?”
“No, we were quiet. I was sulking, I guess. Sitting there seething. Jasper picked up on the fact something was wrong. He grabbed his phone and gave it to me, told me to press speed dial three. Speed dial three, and put it on speakerphone.” She lifted her hand to her mouth, chewing her index finger. “Three was Michael's number. The man who worked for Atticus, the man who was supposed to follow us home.”
“I know, sweetheart. What happened then?”
