Overcoming Fear (Growing Pains #2)

by K. F. Breene

  “She has only had about two glasses of wine,” Jasmine responded.

  “She can hold her liquor better than that,” Sean said, confused again.

  Krista was ignoring everyone, mostly because they were ignoring her, but also because it was getting later in the afternoon and all the crazies were coming out. Gay, straight, men, women--it didn’t matter, there was flogging type sex all over the place. Krista saw another man being led on a dog collar, this time by a woman with a strap-on and leather from head to foot. There was a woman with a ball on a leather strip stuffed in her mouth. She was being spanked by the curb and loving it. Another orgy was getting started ten feet beyond the moaning woman.

  “From what Ben says, she finished somewhere between a bottle and a half to two bottles last night,” Kate explained. “Apparently she woke up in a pile of spit on the living room floor.”

  “Hey guys,” Krista said to the group, still looking at the woman being spanked. “I was hung over, now I’m drunk. I got issues. I’m a mess. We all get it. No new news. Let’s move on, huh? I want this day to be over with so I can moan in peach. PEACE. I meant peace.”

  She drank more water, but knew that if she sobered up too much, she would just be hung over again. And this time it would be even worse than this morning. She had no idea how she would get home at that point.

  Everyone talked amongst themselves for a while, and then Krista was escorted up the walk to the main drag. Here there were more “normal” people mixed in with the leather and chains. It was a bit more Krista’s speed, thank God.

  Time was starting to pass in a haze. An agonizing, hangover haze. Add to that the emotional insanity. Old issues, new issues—she was not normal. Nothing about her life felt normal. Her world was all topsy-turvy, and here she found herself, in weird, crazy, over-the-top sex land. Where the hell had she gone wrong?

  “It’s not that bad,” Kate said, giving her a tug.

  “What? Do you have ESP?”

  “This scene. Your issues. Your life. You’ve been muttering the whole time. If you don’t want everyone to know your issues, you should probably zip the lip.”

  “Oh. Fuck it.”

  “That’s what I usually say, yes. But Sean is listening pretty closely.”

  “Don’t care.

  “Now you don’t, surely. Tomorrow, who’s to say?”

  “Argh! You are giving me a headache.”

  “Jasmine,” Kate called.

  “Yup?” from the back of the procession.

  “She needs more wine.”

  “Olé!” Krista whooped.

  “Is that wise?” Sean asked from Krista’s other side.

  “Sorry about last night, Sean,” Krista slurred, her upper body swinging to him wildly. “And yesterday. And today. Dodged a bullet, though, eh? I’d give you a high-five but then I’d fall on my face. Normally that wouldn’t be a huge issue, but in this place someone might take that as a sign to run over with a strap-on. I’m a mess!”

  “A hot mess,” Jasmine amended, handing up the warm wine.

  “Thank you, Jaz. That was sweet. Do you know that a bum told me to drink hair from a dog? Isn’t that sad? And I took his advice. Here I am, taking his advice.”

  “She should probably go home,” Sean said worriedly.

  “Here, here!” Krista saluted before she took a big gulp.

  She gagged. “It’s warm. And gross.”

  “I have tequila?” Jasmine helped.

  “Jesus, girls—I don’t think you’re helping her,” Sean declared, grabbing Krista when she stumbled.

  “There is no help for me, Sean. Or haven’t you figured that out?” Krista said, leaning into him. “God you smell good.”

  “Enough,” Kate said, ripping her away and dragging her to a large enclosed area where whipping was going on. “No pity parties and no pity sex. You’ll stay for a while longer, then we’ll tuck you in a cab, or on the Muni, and you can go home and die.”

  “Thank God!” Krista said, slumping against the barrier.

  The booth they were standing in front of was not an impromptu affair like the woman on the side of the road. This was a giant booth with employed floggers. A person actually had to pay for the privilege of being beaten. There were a bunch of people watching the proceedings, some dressed up, many not. A woman was in a thong on some type of wood contraption. She was bent over as if it was someone’s lap. A man was standing over her and carefully using his opened hand to slap her white butt. When he made contact, there was the ringing slap, and then her answering moan of pleasure. He must have been at it a while because her butt had turned bright red.

  None of this turned Krista on in the slightest, but it didn’t gross her out, either. What it did do was make her stare in disbelief that this was happening, in public, in the middle of San Francisco. Insane. The city was insane.

  In the same closed-off area were two large wooden posts with a leather thong above head level. Currently each held an occupant. Their hands were in the thongs, unable to get out, and being whipped by some fairly large men. Each stroke had precision and looked well placed. Each person that was tied to the post was fully clothed. And loving it!

  Krista decided, in her drunken haze, that she absolutely had this whole thing all wrong. She had never really tried this sort of thing with someone who wasn’t hell bent on torturing her, and possibly her experiences had just been bad. These people weren’t afraid. Hell, they were enjoying themselves. One person looked ready to climax.

  And then he did climax. Loudly.

  “Have you ever done this, Sean?” Krista asked. He was leaning against the barricade next to her.

  Sean looked behind him. Krista followed his gaze to the gorgeous woman he was with.

  “Oh right, it’s a secret. I get it.” Krista nodded, watching another person who had just climaxed walk away. “Well, when in doubt, give it a go!”

  Krista was inside the enclosure before she knew what was going on. She took her money out and had a stare off with the next person in line. She won. Probably they thought she was crazy, and chose, quite rightly, not to mess with her.

  “Are you fucking serious?” Kate yelled after her.

  “Face the fears.” She pumped her fist in the air as she tied herself in.

  “Have you done this before?” the flogger asked. He was heavy set and had a kind voice. His top concern was her, which fed her courage.

  “No. Well...uh, not…we’ll stick with no.”

  He nodded. “I’ll go light and easy then increase, okay? At any point you don’t like it, all you have to do is open your hands, okay?” He showed her the open hand signal.

  Krista nodded, determination on her face. She would meet this fear and put it behind her. She might even like it without an enraged boyfriend at the helm. It might be a door that opened into some new experiences.

  Her brain was still a bit soggy as she looked over at her group. Jasmine was talking to the beautiful woman, Kate was talking to Sean while looking at some hot guy passing by, and Sean was looking at her. Worriedly.

  It did look bad, Krista knew that, but the guy in charge was obviously a professional, so she wasn’t worried. Well, not as worried as Sean looked, anyway.

  “Okay, here we go.” The flogging man got into position.

  Krista felt the first kiss of the whip. It felt like someone touching her jeans, nothing more. It wasn’t that bad. The leather thong wasn’t great—she got scared pretty quick when she was tied up, usually because she had woken up that way without giving consent, but she calmed herself with deep breaths. She had a fail-safe option. She could stop this at any time. She could yell or open her hand. She was safe.

  She felt the next strip. Then the next. She kept reminding herself that this was her choice. She wanted to be here. She could get out at any time. She had the power, here, and was temporarily giving it up. Just temporarily.

  She smiled and winked over at the girls, the whole group watching her now. Only Sean still looked worried
. Worried and poised. He looked like he was about to spring into action. It occurred to Krista that he was being protective.

  It also occurred to her that in all the time she was ever with Jim, he was often possessive, but not protective. She was about to ponder that further when the next leather strip fell. It wasn’t a kiss at all-- unless the kisser had fangs.

  The next fell, then the next. They were falling faster and landing harder, scorching her skin. The pain lanced through the fog of her alcohol-abused brain. Then the memories started. Struggling against the rope. The rage. The pain. Then the harsh sex that followed. Or maybe no sex at all. Or maybe a beating. Or verbal abuse.

  Jim always switched it up. He always found new ways to vent his anger, or cull his sexual drive. He always found new combinations to make her squirm, realizing the unpredictability was what scared her the most.

  Krista’s throat closed up as the tears leaked out of her eyes. She looked over at the group, looking for help. Blue-gray eyes met vivid green. She silently pleaded for him to help her, to save her. She couldn’t find her voice through her fog of fear. She was scared to scream out, to beg, lest more pain would follow.

  In her panic she forgot the signal. She forgot where she was, who she was. She only knew panic. Panic and memories—memories of why she hated forced BDSM. Of a girl with no power of her own; no control over her world; no safe word to make it all stop. No say when it started in the first place.

  Chapter Eight

  The next thing Krista knew she was being carried. She heard herself whimper and felt strong arms constrict around her. She was put into the back of a car and realized it was Sean’s Beemer. Sean’s large body crawled in with her. A blond head sat into the driver’s seat and started the car.

  Krista calmed herself. She took large gulp of air. She found her power again. She found her control. She forced herself out of the clutch of distant fear, and forced the memories back to their corner. She blackened Jim’s face before she put the lid on the Jim box. She’d done it a million times. More than a million. She’d had to get great at clearing her head and finding her personal power to have the courage to leave him.

  She took a final, cleansing, ragged breath.

  “I’m okay,” she said in a wispy voice, looking at Sean, who was shutting the door and putting one protective arm around her.

  His handsome face was screwed up in worry. He looked at the front seat and back.

  “I’m okay,” Krista said again. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your date. I’m sorry. I just panicked is all. I’m fine, really.”

  The car was moving. Not speeding, but definitely headed toward home. The sooner she made it to her bed the better.

  “She’s my sister,” Sean said, his deep voice next to her ear.

  He didn’t owe her that explanation. For last night he should have drawn it out, tortured her with it, but she was thankful he didn’t.

  It also made sense now that she thought about it. Same cheekbones, same noble features, same vivid eyes even though a different color.

  Krista’s mind slid from that thought and settled, instead, on him. She gladly took the warmth his body was offering. She was aware of his soft breath, feeling his arms around her, knowing that he must have gotten her from that post. He might be all wrong for her romantically, but she had come to depend on him. Her trust in him was solid, and it felt good. Being with him felt good.

  She closed her eyes and focused on his voice, not moving from his grasp. “She’s here from Arizona. She works for a magazine and wanted to write about the Folsom Street Fair. I said I would go with her...”

  He seemed like he wanted to say something else, but fell silent.

  They rode the rest of the way in silence, his arms never loosening their grip, his face never far from hers. Sean’s body heat was like an electric blanket on a snowy night. His warm breath on her ear made her shiver. She snuggled closer.

  Too soon the car slowed and stopped. While Krista knew this would have to end sometime, that she would have to go back to reality, she didn’t want it to happen this soon.

  “Do you want company for a while?” he asked quietly.

  Grateful, she said, “Yes, please.”

  Sean basically unrolled Krista from the car, allowing her to cling to him. He said goodbye to his sister, then shepherded Krista in front of him into the house.

  “Thanks for grabbing me,” Krista said in a small voice. “I don’t know what possessed me to do that. I am not a pain type of girl.”

  “Overcoming the fear of the past is a noble idea. I think it was the execution that was the issue.” Sean slid next to her on the couch.

  He left a little distance between their bodies so she would be comfortable. Krista could tell he didn’t want to. She also didn’t need him to. She moved toward him and he responded by immediately putting his arms around her.

  Then came dawning. “Wait--how did you know about my past?”

  “Kate filled me in somewhat.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I think she was worried about you.”

  But why would she tell him? She had kept the worst of it from even Jasmine. And Kate only knew because she was Krista’s roommate in college, and actually had to save her a couple times when she walked into a horror scene.

  Why would she spill to Krista’s almost boss and the man she was struggling to keep at arm‘s length? The very man she told Krista to stay away from.

  “I don’t think she knew the half of it, though. Or at least she didn’t tell me...” Sean said somberly, cutting through Krista’s mental tirade.

  She looked up to meet his worried eyes. His perfect face was a mask of sorrow and concern. Krista felt the last of her resolve weaken, letting tears come to her eyes in a gush.

  No, Kate didn’t know the half of it. No one did.

  Except, probably, Jim’s other girlfriends.

  Before she knew what was happening, the memories of the past were tumbling out of her mouth, one pile of misery at a time. The mornings she woke up tied to the bed, recoiling from a maddened, lust-filled Jim holding some sexual weapon he wanted to try. To the nights she was drugged and misused for the fun of it. To the slaps and occasional punches to places on her body easily covered up.

  Then to the constant emotional pain. To the lies, the deceit. Telling her she wasn’t pretty enough. Making excuses for her in public. Leaving parties with other girls. Flirting in front of her. Hushing her when she tried to speak. Corralling and cornering her spirit until she no longer had one of her own.

  Then how it all started. The nice words. The charm. The practiced lines. He was a dangerous boy--daring, attractive, irresistible. He said nice things, he bought her dinners, he took her out, he paid attention to her like no one ever had before. She still had her head about her when she realized he was a womanizer. No problem, she thought, I can change him.

  When things went horribly wrong, when reality set in, she was already lost.

  She told Sean how she finally felt something snap when she walked in on him with another woman. It wasn’t a bad break, but a good one. A dawning. An awakening. It finally prompted her to take a stand and she left him. She got beat for it, of course, but that didn’t stop her resolve. This time, it only strengthened it.

  Her calling the cops after he was through abusing her sent a message.

  Walking away was the proudest moment in her life so far. It gave her strength.

  When she was done she felt purged. She actually felt better for the first time in a long time. All the dank, dark places were opened up to allow air and sunlight in. They were still musty, scary places, but now, with effort, they could heal. She wasn’t the first to endure such treatment, and she wasn’t the only one to get away, but it didn’t change the glory of the achievement.

  In the sudden quiet of the room, Sean, in a quiet, strangled voice, said, “I didn’t realize.” He paused for a second to get his bearings. “I may not have always been the perfect gentleman, and I certainly have
been a downright pig on a few occasions, but I have never made a woman suffer. I have never hurt a woman in a way that--” his words cut off in a hitch. His arm convulsed protectively.

  “You can trust me Krista. Friends, lovers, enemies--you can always trust me. I would never hurt you like that. Never use you and discard you. I would like to think I have learned a few things over the years. I would like to think I have grown up a little. Not all the way, but...” He gave a frustrated sigh.

  “I know you are mostly trustworthy, Sean. I just didn’t want to get steamrolled by the gorgeous salesman who could have any girl he wanted. Sue me.”

  He was quiet for a long moment. Krista looked up into the pregnant silence and met his troubled eyes. She got a jolt of emotion she couldn’t place, which surprisingly didn’t reside in her groin, before his sensuous lips curved up into a sardonic smile. “I never was able to keep them, though, despite what you might think. Womanizers, as you insist on calling me, are able to get ‘em naked, but keeping ‘em happy is a whole different ball game. One I was never good at.”

  “Even when it mattered?”

  “Especially when it mattered. Like I said, I would like to think I have grown up a little...” He let the sentence linger, his words trailing in the air above them like smoke.

  The air between them got heavy with expectation. Krista’s pulse quickened in response. She felt herself rising, her lips aiming for his, her eyes never leaving his intense gaze. He stared down at her as if in hypnosis, as if wondering what would happen next; just a player in her game.

  She let her hand trail up his hard chest, lightly going over the skin on his neck, feeling him erupt in goose pimples as she let her fingers travel into his thick, blond hair. Their faces were inches apart, him letting her dictate the pace, complying with her demands.

  Sean’s hands spread across her back, covering as much as they could, tightening, but not pulling. He was just taking up the slack, making sure he had a firm hold as Krista slowly closed the distance between their mouths.

  As Krista’s lips glanced across his, she felt the electricity jump between them, then connected again, more firmly this time. She heard him sigh, but he didn’t bring her closer. He was still taking her cues, waiting for her to call the shots.