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“Neil,please. Tie me up.”
“No.”
Doc moves so fast that I barely register the action before he’s got me up against the wall, his fist pulling my collar tight around my neck.
“Fucking tie me up, Neil. Tie my legs and arms to the bed, fucking hogtie me, whatever. I don’t care how you do it, just do it.”
Jesus! What the hell?
“Doc, if you just explain it to me—”
“Tie me up!”
My ears ring from the sudden shout. Doc doesn’t shout. Doc is calm. Doc is quiet. Doc is the Zen in the madness.
Doc has lost his fucking mind.
I scan the room for something to restrain him as my resolve breaks. I give in to his bizarre request, using some medical wrap to bind his hands and feet. It’s not much, but as soon as I finish, his muscles relax, his breathing evens out, and he closes his eyes with a sigh.
“Thanks.”
I sit across from Doc in the small room Mama Navid gave us for the night, resting my elbows on my knees. “Tell me what this is all about.”
He shakes his head, but I’m not giving up.
“Tell me, or I’ll untie you.”
Doc opens one eye. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
After a few tense moments, he finally opens up, rattling off a weird tale of how Bunny and Kendrick found him near death and got him clean. It isn’t so much their discovery of his battered body that’s weird, more the BDSM aspect of his detox that has my jaw hanging and my eyes wide.
I listen with rapt attention until he comes to a pause. One thing concerns me more than anything else about this. “Um … Bunny’s not gonna tiemeup, is she?”
Tears slip past Doc’s eyes, and he blinks a few times before answering, like it’s taking a second for the question to register. “Huh? Oh, that. No, I don’t think she would. She doesn’t seem to have that dynamic with you and Keys. I think she gets her bondage fix through me and Kendrick. Besides, Keys would never have the nerve to let someone tie him up, not even Bunny.”
“And this really helps you?”
“You have no idea how comforted I am right now, how much more at ease my mind is. The cravings aren’t gone, but they’re more manageable. The bondage is like … like an embrace. Having someone else in control is—I can’t explain it. A huge weight is lifted off my shoulders every time Bunny or Kendrick takes charge. Ilikeit when they give me orders and tell me what to do. As far as the other aspects of it, the ‘S and M’ parts, the pain gives me something else to focus on when I’m wanting a fix. It’s the only other thing that cuts through the urges, that keeps them at bay when I’m stressed out. I can zero in on the sting of a paddle or the sweet agony of a delayed orgasm instead of letting the desire for more drugs take over.”
If this didn’t seem to actually be helping, I’d be freaked out right now. As it is, I find myself more cautiously curious about it. I start with some hesitant questions, but at this point, Doc’s an open book. He answers everything with a matter-of-fact air, occasionally shifting in his limited position to get more comfortable. The violent tremors fade into a mild shaking, and the sweat evaporates. The transformation is amazing, though a little unnerving considering why he’s calming down.
“So, what happens when it’s all over? They don’t just leave you tied up, do they?”
Doc then proceeds to explain the concept of aftercare, and I find myself understanding a bit more. I guess when they take such good care of him after the fact, tending to his wounds and massaging aching muscles and just being there for him, it makes sense that the whole experience could be soothing in a strange, fucked-up kind of way.
As I sit there watching over Doc, I realize Bunny domineers Keys and I as well, just in a different, more muted way. She’s always giving orders, providing gentle directions that are so calm and sweet that in the heat of the moment I never realized what was going on.
Sweet Jesus, am I a sub?
I guess the more I think about it, the more I see the appeal. Not from an “I want to try this” standpoint, more from an “I can empathize with Doc’s reaction to this kind of thing” point of view.
To my relief, Doc drifts off to sleep after about half an hour in his bondage. I gently clip away the medical tape while he dozes, hoping I don’t wake him up in the process and start a chain reaction of fresh cravings. He sleeps right through it, though, barely moving save for the slow rise and fall of his chest. When I look away for a moment, I see Mama Navid standing in the doorway with a sad smile on her face.
“I remember when he was in medical school,” she says. “He took a holistic healing elective from me. Very few med students even bothered with my class; it was mostly women on their way to becoming doulas or midwives. Jefferson here not only sat through the class, but he alsolistenedand participated in the discussion. It wasn’t just an easy elective to fill up his schedule. He paid attention. One of my best students, in fact.”
“Cool.” I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know when Mama Navid started listening to our conversation or how much she heard. Hell, I don’t even know how much of it might be old news to her. Still, she seems to accept Doc as he is without judgment, which is something I think he probably needs right now.
