A few couples were playing on the outskirts of the clearing. Allie could hear the distinctive sounds of a flogging along with the occasional moans of orgasms from people she couldn’t see. She closed her eyes, allowing the sounds of discussion, greetings, and play to drift past her, not focusing on anything particular but enjoying the sense of being part of everything at once.
Before she would have expected it, Karl and Brad were lowering the cross carefully to the ground. Daddy Dave held it in place while they undid the ropes holding her up, and she was surprised to find that her legs did not want to support her when she tried to stand. She made a stumbling step, reaching out to steady herself.
Brad took her in his arms while Karl quickly untied the harnesses, and then they wrapped her in a blanket and laid her on a lounge chair that she hadn’t noticed before.
“Rest there for a minute,” Brad told her. “Then we’ll take you inside if you want.”
“And miss the drumming circle?” Allie’s voice sounded indistinct, even to herself, but she was determined not to miss any part of the evening she’d worked so hard on. She blinked, trying to clear out the fuzzy remnants of her endorphin high. “I’m perfectly comfortable here and I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”
He laughed, pulling over two chairs so he and Karl could settle themselves next to her. They watched as the Dominants in the group rearranged the pillows on the ground and the submissives positioned themselves, either kneeling or sitting cross-legged in front of their partners.
Phoenix brought out a large drum and informed the group that there were actual instruments available for anyone who had no willing submissive or who simply preferred them. Then he sat for a moment with his head lowered, obviously going through some mental preparations. When he raised it again, he smiled around the group and began to beat out a slow tempo on his drum. After a moment, the Dominants began to beat on the backs and shoulders of their submissives in time with him.
The pounding and slapping on human flesh was, of course, not nearly as loud as Phoenix’s hands on his drum, but it made an oddly distinctive noise. They’d never done anything like it before and Allie hadn’t quite known what to expect. It might have been her altered state of mind after her suspension or the ecstatic expressions on the faces of the submissives and slaves as they processed the sensations, but she found her eyes filling with tears, as if she were attending some kind of sacred ritual. As she watched, an almost visible energy was generated, swirling around the participants and the few spectators. It made her want to dance, so after a few minutes she did. Grateful that someone had swept the twigs and rocks away from the area between the bonfire and the drummers, she threw off her blanket and began to move to the rhythm of the drumming. Brad and Karl joined her and took turns holding her as she swayed.
A few others joined them periodically, some of the “drums” taking breaks or else people who had just come to watch. Most removed their clothes, if they hadn’t before, and the sight of so many naked people dancing and drumming around a bonfire in the woods made Allie feel that she was part of something esoteric, almost magical. She’d never felt so connected to her community and her partners. For two hours they were all lost in the thrall of the drumming and the moonlight.
Chapter 7
“Oh, mercy of God, somebody kill me.” Jeremy groaned, bringing his right hand up to lay across his eyes.
“Good, you’re not dead. I was starting to worry,” said a male voice from some distance away.
Jeremy knew even in his troubled state that he did not recognize the voice. He dropped his hand to his chest and cracked open one eye with another groan. “I am never drinking tequila again.” A sudden thought dawned on him. The hand on his chest was touching his bare skin. Where is my shirt?
“I know what you mean, dude.” The voice seemed to be moving around. Jeremy had trouble locating it. Of course, the fact that the light seemed to be way too bright didn’t help any. He blinked, trying to adjust, but his eyelids seemed to be made of something heavy and magnetic. They did not want to stay open. “I’m that way with Everclear,” the unidentified male continued. “That shit is the devil’s brew. It leaves you with a hangover that makes you wish for death.”
Jeremy’s blurred vision swept around his surroundings, which was no doubt some kind of bachelor apartment. There was a small television surrounded by various electronics and controls, and old, cheap furniture that matched the heavy metal posters on the wall. A set of dumbbells was piled in one corner. Jeremy knew without a doubt that he’d never been here in his life. Where he was and why his shirt was gone were complete and utter mysteries to him. When he tried to concentrate on how he might have gotten here he realized he didn’t remember most of last night. After he’d stormed out of the hospital he’d wandered around for several hours brooding, but that put him into an even deeper depression. He knew it had been a bad idea even at the time, but getting tore down had just seemed like the thing to do.
“How do you feel?” the voice asked hesitantly.
“Like I was run over by a bus. Twice.” Jeremy tried to sit up and swing his legs to the floor, but instead he only managed to get tangled in the blanket that had been thrown over him. After a moment of futile thrashing, he and the blanket ended up in a twisted pile on the floor.
Hands were suddenly on his shoulders. Jeremy’s natural reactions took over and he shook them off, struggling to free himself from the damn blanket and get to a position where he could see what was going on. “Get off me. I’m okay.”
“No need to be a dick, man.” The voice sounded petulant. “I was just trying to help.”
Jeremy strained to focus his eyes and, after squinting hard for a few seconds, realized he did know the guy. It was the Goth kid from the hunt the other day. There was something different about him, but Jeremy’s brain was too addled to work out what it was. He tried to sit up and scuffed his bare knee on the carpet by the couch he had just fallen off. A panicked thought occurred to him. Fuck, I have no pants on. Why the hell don’t I have any clothes on? What did this kid do to me while I was trashed? I’m gonna kill the little bastard as soon as I can see straight. With as much dignity as he could muster he pulled the blanket back around himself and found that he did at least still have on his boxers, small mercy as that was.
Goth Kid—Brody, that was it—grinned at him and plopped down into a chair opposite. “Dude, you were a mess last night. What was the deal? I thought cops knew better.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Jeremy grumbled. “Where are my clothes? What happened last night, anyway? It’s all a blur.”
Brody’s grin got wider. “Well, I don’t know what happened in the bar but I’m guessing you may not be welcome back there. When I was walking past the place on my way home from the bonfire, two big guys were carrying you out. They didn’t seem to be big fans of yours, ’cause they tossed you on the sidewalk. I think they were going to do more but they saw me and went back inside. I guess they didn’t want any witnesses. Lucky for you I happened by, huh?’
Jeremy scowled. “I remember going into the bar and ordering a drink.”
“Really, dude? A drink?”
“Okay, maybe a lot of drinks.” He pulled himself back onto the couch. Maybe he wouldn’t have to kill the kid after all. “It’s all in little flashes now, you know? I remember something about a big guy with long sideburns giving me shit. I may have done something rude. I don’t remember for sure.”
Brody nodded. “That sounds like one of the guys I saw dumping your ass on the ground. It looked like he had a fat lip, but on that face it was hard to tell. Have you ever seen the Lord of the Rings movies?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, he looked like one of the Orcs. Really fugly, if you get my drift.” The kid laughed at his own joke but Jeremy only clutched his head and groaned again.
“You’re killing me, kid. Do you have to shriek like that? Hangover from hell here. What the hell does ‘fugly’ mean?”
“You know, f
ucking ugly. Fugly.”
“Right. Fugly.” Jeremy tried to roll his eyes, but they seemed to be nailed in place.
Not sounding sorry in the least, Brody laughed. The sound shot through Jeremy’s head like a bullet. “Yeah, right. I have just the morning-after cure for you, and you’re in luck. I happen to have the stuff to make it.”
“Great. Make mine a double with arsenic, please. Then tell me why I have no clothes on.”
“Sure.” Brody jumped up and went into the kitchen, yelling over his shoulder. “Well, after your buddies assisted you gently to the sidewalk, it dawned on me who you were. I knew I couldn’t just leave a fellow kinkster there to die so I helped you up and brought you here to crash on my couch. Unfortunately, you puked several times on the way home and I had to wash your clothes while you were sleeping, ’cause, dude, I don’t do puke. It is nasty.”
Normally Jeremy would have been suspicious of any story that ended up with him mostly naked on a couch, but he had a feeling the kid was telling the truth. Feeling ashamed of himself, Jeremy mumbled as Brody came back into the room, “Thanks, man. I appreciate everything.”
“No worries. We have to look out for each other, right?” Brody had a tall glass in each hand. The liquid inside was pale red and seemed to have bits floating in it that Jeremy hoped was fruit. Brody handed him one of the glasses, then held the other up in salute.
Jeremy looked dubiously into his drink before taking a sip. Then he took a longer one. It was actually refreshing, with a strong citrus flavor. He was suddenly very thirsty and drained the glass in one long pull, finishing up with the fruit chunks. He put the empty glass on the coffee table and leaned back into the couch, hoping this one wasn’t going to follow the example of the drinks from last night. His stomach rumbled a bit but he managed to keep it down and a few minutes later he actually started to feel a little better. He found to his relief that he could raise his head without hoping to die. He squinted at Brody again. “What was that, kid? It’s working miracles.”
Brody smiled back proudly. “A little something I created. I’m a bartender at one of the nightclubs here in town and this little beauty makes me more tips than anything else I make. I call it a tingler. All of the local drunks swear by it.” He laughed again, causing Jeremy to wince in pain. Apparently it hadn’t finished working yet.
Gritting his teeth, he asked, “What’s in it and do you have any aspirin?”
“Sure. Let me get them.” Brody walked into an adjoining room that Jeremy assumed was the bathroom, then returned, handing him three small white tablets.
Jeremy stared at them for a minute, debating if he should take unknown pills from the kid.
As if sensing the cause of Jeremy’s hesitation, Brody said, “They’re just aspirin, dude. Not roofies.”
“Sorry,” Jeremy mumbled, feeling like an ass again. This kid had done nothing but help him and here he was treating him like a criminal. Kind of like he had done to Liam and Ginny, he realized. For a moment Ginny had looked pleased to see him, but he hadn’t given them the chance to explain anything before his outburst.
Brody’s next words broke into his thoughts. “So, anyway. The drink is really easy to make. You just muddle a couple of slices of lemons, limes, oranges, and a couple maraschino cherries with a little Sprite and grenadine. Then add some ice and finish filling it with the Sprite. Give it a quick stir and presto, the best hangover cure on the planet.”
“Thanks, buddy. I owe you one.”
Brody came over and sat on the end of the couch. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, as long as you do it quietly.”
“Last night you kept waking up screaming about someone named Ginny and what sounded like Lem. You sounded pretty upset but weren’t making any sense. Are they okay? Do we need to go out and find them? Maybe get them some help? You were pretty hard to understand, but I did catch the words ‘hospital’ and ‘hurt’.”
“They’re fine. They’re friends of mine—or at least they used to be.” Jeremy dropped his head down into his hands. “Before I fucked everything up yesterday.”
“Is that the people you were with at the hunt?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jeremy snapped, then caught himself. Brody didn’t deserve his anger. The only one who did was himself. “Sorry. Can I borrow your shower?”
“Sure. It’s right through there.” Brody pointed. “Your clothes should be ready by the time you’re done.”
* * * *
“Let me take you out for a bite,” Jeremy said, coming out of the bathroom half an hour later fully dressed and feeling almost human. “It’s the least I can do to say thank you for all you’ve done. You should bottle that drink, by the way. It’s amazing. I have never bounced back from a hangover so fast before.”
Brody jumped to his feet and tossed aside the remote. “Great. I’m starving. I doubt the tinglers would work as well pre-made. I think it’s the fresh citrus juice that does the magic. Come on, I know just the place.” He led the way out into the street and began walking toward the main part of town.
Jeremy considered asking if they shouldn’t be driving, but then he decided that the fresh air and exercise would probably be better for him. He was still a little fuzzy, but the strong daylight didn’t bother him as much as it would have with a normal hangover. He shook his head in wonder, then he immediately regretted the action. Surprisingly, though, it didn’t make him sick, as he’d expected.
“Okay, so I was wondering if I could ask you some questions,” Brody said as they walked.
Jeremy looked at him in surprise. “Of course. Questions about what?”
“About the lifestyle—the community. Whatever you want to call it. You know I did the fox hunt the other day, right?”
“Sure.” Jeremy looked away to hide his smile at remembering Brody serving Steph’s mistress all evening as a result of losing the hunt.
“That wasn’t one of my most shining moments.” Brody laughed a little, and Jeremy glanced at him in surprise. The kid didn’t take himself too seriously, which was a very good thing. “But I’m glad it happened that way.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’d been trying for a long time to figure out how to play with Steph and Ma’am—I mean Alice,” Brody said, his face going a little red. “When the fox hunt came up it seemed like the ideal time to approach them. I actually kind of wanted to lose.”
“So you could submit to Alice?”
“Yeah.” Brody’s face went even redder and he suddenly seemed very interested in the sidewalk.
“Did you enjoy it?”
There was silence for a moment, and Brody stuck both hands in his pockets like a small boy about to confess to some mischief. “Yeah, I kind of did.”
“So what’s the problem?”
Brody looked up at him. “I— Well, I’m a guy. Guys aren’t supposed to want that, are they?”
“Why not?” Jeremy smiled at him. “Different people like all kinds of different things. Alice and Steph are both gorgeous women. What’s wrong with wanting to play with them? I’d be more worried about you if you didn’t.”
Brody thought about it for a minute. “So you’re telling me it’s okay for a guy to be submissive to an older woman?”
“Of course it’s okay.” Jeremy laughed briefly, wincing at his own noise. “There are no rules that say the submissive has to be a woman, or that the man has to be older. Besides, being submissive doesn’t make you weak or incapable. Would you say Steph is a weak person?”
“Hell, no!”
“I didn’t think so. It takes a strong personality to be a submissive. If you have no power or self-confidence, what could you possibly offer them with your gift of submission?”
Brody frowned. “I know, but I don’t know any guys that do it, only girls like Steph.”
“Bullshit. You know Brad, right? He’s Allie’s submissive, isn’t he? Do you think any
less of him for it?”
“No, I’d forgotten about him. That dude is a machine. He’s like an accountant or something. He helps run their resort and has become a real power in the local community. I think he’s submissive to Master Karl, too, but I’m not sure how all that works. I could never be submissive to a guy.”
“Never say never, kid. Life is too short and you just don’t know what’s around the next corner. Something or someone may come into your life unexpectedly that changes everything, so keep your options open.” Seeing the skepticism evident on Brody’s face, Jeremy continued. “I’m not saying you’re likely to have sex with the next guy you meet—not that there’s anything wrong with that. All I’m saying is being open minded is better than the alternative. Besides, I don’t think Brad and Karl are very sexual with each other. I think it’s mostly with Allie, and who can blame them? She’s hot.”
“True. I think I get what you’re saying.” Brody sounded as if he was deep in thought.
“Good. Now, how much further is this place?”
“Oh, sorry. It’s just about two more blocks.” Brody turned onto a street that Jeremy suddenly recognized. It was the same one he had chased the purse snatcher down a few days before.
His head throbbed again and he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He dreaded the answer but had to ask anyway. “We aren’t going to that little diner, are we?”
“Yeah. It’s called Peckish and they have the best cook in town. Why?”
Jeremy debated whether he should tell Brody about Ginny and how Carly had gotten angry at them for Liam’s comment about her. Just then, though, something caught his attention. He hadn’t been a cop for ten years without developing a sense for when things just weren’t right and that sense was tingling now. He put out a hand to signal Brody to stop.
“What is it, dude?”
Scanning the street and surrounding alley entrances, it became clear what was bothering him. There was a guy lurking in an alleyway on the other side of the bank, which was just beyond the diner. The guy seemed to be looking around a lot, as if he were watching for someone to use the walk-up ATM machine. Looking closer, Jeremy realized it was the same guy he had caught the other day, the one who had been wearing the Spiderman mask.
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