Decadent Master. Tawny Taylor

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      “Because you’re sending me into that world. With people I don’t understand…What could I possibly gain by going to a bondage club?”

      “Honestly, there’s a very good reason why I think paying a visit to a bondage club is a good idea. But I won’t force you. It’s your choice.”

      “Then I choose not to.”

      “Very well, then. If you aren’t willing to do this for yourself, you wouldn’t have gained any useful insight by going anyway, only ammunition for prejudice and hatred.” Susan looked weary as she glanced at the clock. “Our time is up. We’ll talk again in two weeks. But before you go, I want to give you the phone number of someone I trust very much. In case you change your mind. She can get you into the local bondage club, Twilight. It’s very safe and exclusive.” She scrawled a name on the back of one of her cards and offered it to Wynne.

      “All right.” Wynne reluctantly accepted the proffered card and stuffed it into her pocket with the torn-up tissue. She stood, gave Susan-the-crazy-shrink a friendly wave, and headed out of the office. She found her friend Kristy sitting in the waiting room, her head buried in a romance novel. Wynne gave her a tap on the shoulder and headed for the exit.

      “I’m guessing you don’t like your new therapist very much?” her intuitive friend asked as they walked to the car.

      “You guessed right.”

      “What is it this time?” Kristy ducked into the passenger seat before adding, “This is the third counselor you’ve ditched in six months. You know, maybe it’s not them—”

      “That woman suggested I go to a bondage club.” Wynne tossed the business card onto the dash, crammed the key into the ignition, and gave it a jerk.

      “Why would she do that?” her friend asked, plucking up the card to read it.

      “Because she’s cuckoo, that’s why.” Wynne rammed the gear shift into drive and stomped on the gas, sending the car lurching out of the parking space.

      Wow, she could see herself overreacting, but she couldn’t stop. Her heart wasn’t just pounding in her chest, it was jack-hammering. Her skin wasn’t just hot, it was blistering. And this awful, overwhelming twitchy rage was rushing through her body, relentless and overpowering.

      Kristy thrust her arms forward, grabbing the dash. “Maybe I’d better drive.”

      “No.” Wynne took a few deep breaths. “I’m sorry. I won’t drive like an ass. I promise. This isn’t worth killing anyone over.”

      Kristy waited a while, several minutes, and finally, after she must have been convinced Wynne had pulled herself together, she asked, “Okay, so why did your new therapist say she wanted you to go to a bondage dungeon?”

      “Because she thinks I won’t get over this thing with John until I understand bondage. I think it bothered her a little when I suggested people who do that stuff were abnormal for wanting to be beaten.”

      Kristy gaped. “You said that?”

      “Yeah. Kind of.” After seeing Kristy’s reaction, Wynne started second-guessing herself. “Um, I said something like they have a sex addiction and can’t help themselves.”

      “Your counselor has a point, then. That’s a judgmental thing to say.”

      “Yeah, maybe.” When a glance at her friend’s face left her feeling like crap, she added, “I was upset, you know? She kept pushing me to tell her how I felt, so I did. I wasn’t thinking. The words just came out. Even if I don’t believe everyone who goes to bondage dungeons is a sick addict, it doesn’t change anything. I won’t go to one of those places.” She paused. “I…can’t.”

      “Why not? What are you afraid of?”

      More silence. “Because those places are creepy. And scary…and I just can’t.” There came the tears again. She blinked to keep her vision clear. Damn it, she hated crying. Hated crying almost as much as she hated feeling like this—like her insides were still as raw as they’d been that day in April.

      “Oh, honey. I wish there was something I could do or say to help you through this. I…could go with you, if that would make it easier.”

      “But I don’t want to go.” Sniffling, she dug in the center console between the seats, looking for another tissue. She found a crumpled McDonald’s napkin. “It’s not going to change anything. John isn’t going to come back to me. So what’s the point?”

      A long silence stretched between them, broken only by the pathetic sound of Wynne’s sniffling.

      Kristy sighed. “Maybe Susan Smith, Certified Therapist, knows something we don’t. You’ve tried to get over this thing on your own and it hasn’t worked. You’ve tried two other counselors, and they didn’t help either. I say you trust the shrink you’re paying God only knows how much and do what she says. You might come out of this understanding why John lied, why he had to leave you…. It’s been a year,” her friend reminded her gently. “You dated one guy since John left, and that lasted for less than a month. Sweetie, you acted like a clingy leech and scared him off. Since then it seems like you’ve given up. You don’t go out anymore. The funny, friendly, easygoing girl I knew is gone.”

      “Maybe I don’t need to be that girl anymore. Maybe she was easygoing because she didn’t have a freaking clue what a mess her life was.” Wynne hit the power button on the radio, putting an end to the conversation. No denying, it was rude, cutting off her friend like that, but she was pushing too hard and Wynne wasn’t in any condition to listen to more psychobabble shit.

      Absolutely, she wanted to get out of this hell she’d fallen into. She could step outside of herself, watch herself being a bitch. It was her way of dealing with her pain and anger.

      Obviously, despite what all the counselors had said, there was no cure for a broken heart. It would take time. A lot longer than one year. Maybe this girl was a slower-than-average healer.

      She just wished someone understood how she felt. Really and truly knew what it felt like to have the one human being on the face of the earth who cared about her turn around and tell her it was all a lie, that he didn’t really love her, had maybe never loved her at all. She had a feeling if she ever did find a person who empathized with that kind of pain, they’d be friends forever. Or better yet, more than friends.

      “Pull the car over,” Kristy said abruptly.

      “Why? What’s wrong? Are you sick or something?”

      “No, just do it. Please.”

      Wynne looked over her shoulder and eased into the right lane. Then, at the first driveway, an entry to a Burger King, she turned out of traffic and parked.

      Kristy cut off the radio. “There’s something I need to tell you, and well, this is just as good a time as any. If I keep waiting for the perfect opportunity, I won’t ever tell you.”

      Wynne’s heart stopped. A split second later, it kicked back to life, but at a pace that was at least twice its normal rate. “What’s wrong? Are you pregnant?”

      Kristy rolled her eyes. “No, I’m not pregnant. I get the Depo shot every СКАЧАТЬ