Reconstructing Meredith (Light Switch Book 2)

by Lauren Gallagher

  “Do you want me to continue?”

  “If that’s—” I struggled to form the words. “If that’s what you want, Mistress.”

  ~ * ~

  After a brutal flogging and two hard-won orgasms, I was exhausted. Completely spent. Lying on my stomach, arms folded beneath the pillow, I closed my eyes while Kristen rubbed lotion on to my back.

  The lotion and her skin burned in a few places. Probably wherever she’d drawn blood. She’d mastered the cat o’ nine tails and knew just how to hit me to raise welts, maybe break the skin a little, but not cause any real damage. She knew exactly where my limits were, and with time and confidence, she’d learned to push them. My pain threshold was high, but she could find that threshold. Find it, push it, and flood my system with endorphins. Subspace was never as good as it was when she put me there.

  “Doing okay?” she asked.

  “Mm-hmm.” I took a deep breath and rolled my shoulders as much as I could in this position. “How does my back look?”

  “Like lower Manhattan.”

  I laughed. “Nicely done.”

  She ran a finger along my shoulder. “Really broke the skin here,” she said softly. “Sorry about that.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “Not too bad.” She dabbed it gently with a tissue, and I sucked in a hiss of breath when it stung. “It won’t need stitches or anything.”

  “Is it still bleeding?”

  “Not really.” Another dab. “It’ll be fine, I just didn’t mean to get you quite that badly.”

  “It happens.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “I just don’t want to, you know, maim you or something.”

  A flash of Meredith’s scars flickered through my mind. I shuddered. “I don’t think that’ll be an issue.”

  She squeezed my shoulder gently. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I pushed myself on to my arms, then sat up slowly, giving the lightheadedness a chance to pass before I swung my legs over the side of the bed.

  Kristen sat behind me and touched my shoulder again. “Are you sure?”

  It all flooded back into my mind. Everything I’d hoped to escape by disappearing into subspace for a while. I’d succeeded, I’d escaped, but when I returned to reality, it was all right here waiting.

  Right here waiting, and with reinforcements. The dreams. The flashbacks. Thoughts of Meredith enduring what I’d just enjoyed, being whipped against her will, praying it would stop with all the fervor with which I’d begged for more. The scars commemorating a beating so brutal I couldn’t even begin to imagine.

  Goose bumps prickled my skin and a sick feeling twisted in my gut. I’d been through some horrific flogging sessions years ago, but not like that. Not nearly as bad. And if I couldn’t escape it, God only knew how much it haunted her.

  “What’s wrong?” Kristen put her arms around me and rested her head between my shoulders. “I’m worried about you, Scott.”

  I laced our fingers together. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “I don’t believe you.” She lifted her head and kissed the side of my neck. “You haven’t been yourself since Meredith called you that night.”

  Exhaling slowly, I said nothing. I couldn’t argue. My world had been off-kilter ever since Meredith had walked back into it, so I wasn’t surprised Kristen had picked up on it. I didn’t know if I wanted her or anything else to see how badly I was straining under it, though.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  “It’s nothing I can talk about,” I said just as quietly.

  “Except it’s eating at you.” She ran her fingers through my hair. “I’m not asking you to break Meredith’s confidence, but I’m worried about you.” She kissed the side of my neck again and murmured, “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Get it off your chest.”

  Another escape. An outlet. A chance to vent that which I hadn’t vented in entirely too long.

  I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and rubbing my temples with my fingers. “I shouldn’t be talking about this.”

  “You know I won’t repeat any of it.” She gently massaged my shoulders. “And you don’t have to tell me any of the really sensitive stuff, do you?”

  I exhaled hard. “It’s the only way I could even begin to explain it. Fuck, Krissy, this stuff has given me nightmares.”

  Red! Red! Scott, please, red!

  I shivered again, sucking in a hiss of breath.

  “Scott, talk to me.” Kristen’s voice was unsteady.

  I didn’t want to break Meredith’s confidence. She was okay with me talking to Leslie about it, but Kristen? I wasn’t so sure. Still, if I didn’t get some of this off my chest, out of my head…

  In Kristen’s hands, my shoulders fell. Closing my eyes, I whispered, “None of this leaves this room.”

  “Of course not.”

  I took a deep breath. Did I dare open these floodgates? Whether I dared or not, before I could stop myself, I did. “Meredith’s ex-husband was a Dom. I mean, if you could call him that.”

  Kristen squeezed my shoulders. “What did he do?”

  I licked my dry lips. “Do you remember, back when we first started playing together, when I said I wanted to be your Dom?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  I sat up, putting my hands over hers on my shoulders. “And do you remember why?”

  Beneath my hands, hers tensed slightly. “Because you didn’t want me having a bad experience. Like the one you had.”

  I nodded. “Her ex was…” I swallowed hard, trying to keep the lump from rising in my throat, but when I continued, my voice still shook. “He was everything I wanted to protect you from and more.” I cleared my throat. “She spent two and a half years in a living hell with him.”

  “Oh my God,” Kristen whispered.

  “He beat her, he tied her and abandoned her, he choked her until he damn near killed her.” I swallowed again, and it didn’t do a damned bit of good. “Raping her himself wasn’t enough, so he brought in other Doms to—” My voice caught, and the ache in my throat intensified. “Whatever he or any other Dom did to her, she just had to fucking take it.”

  “The other Doms didn’t catch on that there was a problem?”

  “Apparently not. My guess is, they all thought it was a rape fantasy. That it was her fantasy, and no one had to stop until she used a safe word.” My voice shook and I could barely whisper as I added, “They probably had no idea there was no safe word. There was nothing she could say or do except…”

  Krissy didn’t speak, just made gentle arcs with her thumbs on my shoulders as a silent “I’m here.”

  “All she could do was take it. Anything and everything.” I took a deep breath. “God, she was so confident and self-assured in bed when we were together, and he reduced her to nothing. He took everything away. Scared her, hurt her, humiliated her, he…” I trailed off, pressing my lips together as I struggled to keep myself together. “He fucking… broke her.”

  Kristen combed her fingers through my hair. “That’s… Jesus, I don’t even know what to say.”

  “I don’t either.” Come on, Scott, keep it together. I let my face fall into my hand, covering my eyes as I fought to keep my composure. “The more I hear, the more—” My voice cracked. I gritted my teeth, but as the words came out, so too did the tears: “Who does that to another human being?”

  “I don’t know.” Kristen wrapped her arms around me. “But thank God she has you now. And it makes me that much more thankful I’ve had you from the beginning.”

  A sick feeling twisted in my gut at the very thought of someone like Rich ever laying a hand on Krissy. I’d taken her on as my sub because my inner control freak and overprotective friend was afraid of her having an experience like the one I’d had. I’d never even imagined someone as bad as Rich, and oh God, why couldn’t I have protected Meredith like I did Krissy?

  I closed my eyes, and another tear slid down my face. “
Fuck,” I muttered, wiping it away and sniffing sharply. She held me tighter, which did nothing to help me regain my crumbling composure.

  “God, I’m sorry, baby.” I sniffed again. Cleared my throat. “This is… fuck…”

  “Scott, I’ve seen you drunk,” she said, a slightly playful lilt in her voice. “I’m hardly going to be horrified by seeing you cry.”

  I laughed, wiping my eyes again. “Okay, I guess I can’t argue with that.”

  She rested her head on my shoulder. “I had no idea Meredith had been through so much.”

  “Up until recently, neither did I.” I moistened my lips. “And to add a little insult to injury…” I swallowed hard. “I still have feelings for her.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me at all,” she said. “I didn’t think you ever stopped having feelings for her.”

  “Yeah, I guess I didn’t.”

  “Does she—”

  “I haven’t said anything to her about it.”

  “Do you think she feels the same way?”

  I shook my head. “Even if she did, she’s got more than enough on her plate right now.”

  “I would talk to her about it.” Kristen drew gentle arcs with her thumb along the back of my hand like she had on my shoulders a moment ago.

  I sighed. “I’ll think about it. I just don’t want to throw more at her than she can handle right now.”

  She let go of my hand and ran her fingers through my hair. “Talk to her. You might be pleasantly surprised.”

  “I guess we’ll see.” Then I chuckled half-heartedly. “Guess this is an odd thing to talk to a girlfriend about.”

  She laughed. “Oh, I don’t think it’s possible for anything to be too odd for us to discuss.”

  “So you’re not jealous?”

  “Please, Scott. I’m not jealous.” She paused. “But if she gets territorial, I’ll totally mud-wrestle her for you.”

  I turned around, eyebrows raised. “Oh, really?”

  She shrugged, grinning. “Maybe.”

  “Does she have to get territorial for the two of you to—”

  “Oh, Jesus.” She rolled her eyes. “You and Matt, I swear…”

  “Hey, we’re guys. What do you expect?”

  “Nothing less,” she said with an exasperated sigh.

  I laughed and put my arm around her, kissing her gently. “Thanks for letting me unload this on you.”

  “You know I’m always here for you,” she said. “Any time you need to talk.”

  “Thank you.” I kissed her again. “I love you, baby.”

  “I love you too.”

  I grinned. “Now, let’s talk more about this mud-wrestling thing…”

  Chapter 25

  The same old, ragged issue of Popular Mechanics was in my hands, but just as it had the first time, it failed to hold my interest.

  I thought about riffling through the untidy stack in search of that copy of Reader’s Digest, the one that had gotten a quiet laugh out of Meredith the first time we were here. Laughter was the best medicine, after all.

  But I didn’t go looking for it. I wasn’t sure I had the energy to muster a laugh. I couldn’t even feign interest in an article about the latest innovations in wind turbine technology. Even if I had read it fifty million times at home, something like that could usually appeal to the geek in me enough to keep my attention for a few minutes.

  I tossed the magazine on to the table beside me. I watched the fish tank for a while, letting my eyes follow a weird yellow and electric blue fish around a piece of fake coral.

  Maybe that was what I needed at home. A tropical fish tank. Watching it would give Malia something to do anyway, and that might occupy her enough to extend the life of some of my furniture by a few months. Assuming she didn’t fall in, that is.

  Even that thought couldn’t make me laugh.

  I glanced at the clock. Fifteen more minutes. Why did I always have to be so damned early for things? Then again, being here early beat staying at the office longer than I had to. I could either stare at a tank full of bored fish or try to comprehend numbers and schematics that usually made sense to me. At least my boss didn’t mind me taking off early. She’d let me out an hour early on half a day’s notice, and Leslie had scheduled me in without hesitation. Either they were both incredibly flexible or they’d both caught on that I needed to be here more than I needed to be at work.

  I sighed and rubbed my eyes. I hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours in the last two days. Not since I broke down with Kristen.

  Shifting my attention back to the fish tank, I noticed an odd black one that I hadn’t seen before. And where was the yellow one that always swam in circles at the other end?

  Christ, had I really been coming here so long I’d memorized the fish and their routines? I closed my eyes and rubbed the back of my neck. Apparently I—we—had been coming here that long. Had it been enough? Week after week, appointment after appointment, and I felt worse than now than when we’d started. Meredith had come a long way, that much was undeniable, but why the hell did I feel like I was falling apart?

  The familiar click of the door dividing the waiting room from the offices caught my attention, and I opened my eyes.

  Leslie appeared in the doorway. “Scott?”

  I stood and followed her back to her office. She closed the door behind us.

  “Thanks for getting me in on short notice.” I took a seat on the all too familiar couch.

  “Given the situation you’re dealing with,” she said, easing herself into her chair, “I have no problem seeing either of you on short notice.”

  “Much appreciated.”

  She folded her hands on the file in her lap. “So, I assume something is bothering you?”

  “A few things, actually.”

  “Well, we’ll start with one and go from there.”

  “I’m just not sure where to start.” I chewed my lip, then closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I haven’t been sleeping well. When I do, the dreams…” I shuddered.

  “What kind of dreams?”

  “They vary, but there was one,” I whispered, suppressing a shiver, “I was flogging Amy with a cat o’ nine tails. And I remember being incredibly turned on, just like I always am when I flog her, except it was all… different.” The vivid images from the dream flickered through my mind, and I couldn’t keep that shiver away.

  “Different in what way?”

  I swallowed hard. “She was screaming. I couldn’t understand her, but the fact that she was screaming turned me on.”

  “Does she usually scream when you flog her?”

  I shook my head. “Never. She goes into subspace so fast, and usually just moans if she makes any sound at all. But in the dream…” My stomach flipped. I cast a cautious glance to one side, making sure I knew exactly where that wastebasket was. A few feet away. Good. Close enough. “She screamed in the dream, and after a while, I realized she was screaming…” I closed my eyes, cringing at the acrid taste of the yet unspoken words. “She was screaming the safe word. Over, and over, and over.”

  “And did you stop when you realized that’s what she was saying?”

  “No,” I whispered. Dream or not, the shame and horror conspired to turn my stomach even harder. “No, I didn’t. The more she said it, the more…” I swallowed again. “The more turned on I was. Especially when I realized how much I’d torn her back to shreds.” I sat back, looking up at the ceiling as I tried to collect my thoughts. “I woke up in a cold sweat, and I knew immediately it was a dream. I’d never do that to a sub, never in a million years, but Jesus, it got fucked with my head.”

  “How long ago was this?”

  “That one was a few weeks ago.” I looked at her. “But I’ve had plenty more like it, and they bug the hell out of me.”

  “As well they should,” she said. “I’d be worried if something like that didn’t bother you.” She cocked her head. “Now, are you concerned you’re having dreams like that
because they reveal something about yourself?”

  Swallowing hard, I nodded.

  “Those dreams don’t mean you’re someone like Rich, if that’s what you’re wondering. Quite the opposite. You’re terrified of hurting any of your subs. I’ve seen you in action, Scott. There’s a reason you have a reputation for being a conscientious Dom. You’ve mentioned before that you were cautious to a fault in your early years, so maybe on some deep, subconscious level, you’re afraid of becoming someone like Meredith’s ex-husband.” She shook her head. “Quite honestly, you and I both know you have a greater chance of sprouting wings.”

  I managed a quiet laugh. “Is that a roundabout way of saying it’ll happen when pigs fly?”

  Leslie laughed and shook her head. “Not exactly.” She shifted in her chair. “Listen, dreams like this are simply a way for the subconscious to process information. You’ve probably had a difficult time processing the fact that someone could even do something like that to another person.”

  My blood turned cold and I sat up a little straighter.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “It just struck me,” I said. “That’s exactly what I said to Krissy. That I couldn’t fathom how someone could do this to another human being.”

  “I’m not surprised. You can’t comprehend it, and neither can your subconscious. Unfortunately, that can often result in dreams that are nearly as disturbing as the reality.”

  I shivered. “You’re not lying there.”

  “That will probably continue for a while, I’m afraid,” she said. “Someone like you isn’t going to deal with something like this without being affected on some level.”

  I blew out a breath. “On every level, it seems.”

  “And, as miserable as it is for you, it’s also exactly why you’re an ideal Dom, Scott, especially for a submissive like her,” she said softly. “People have this impression that Doms are truly sadistic, that we’re heartless, that we’re sociopaths. But you’re a compassionate, empathetic human being, which is exactly what every sub should hope for. And you’re precisely what Meredith needs to help her recover from what she’s been through.” She paused. “It also means that a situation like this is going to take its toll on you.”