Read Saving Sunni Online

Authors: Reggie Alexander,Kasi Alexander

Saving Sunni (22 page)

“And what effect are you looking for in a scene like this?” Cobb wanted to know.

“Well, there are several reasons people enjoy it.” Matthew hit Jim a couple more times, each time a little harder than before. Jim was standing very still, his head bent forward slightly between the cross pieces, probably enjoying this part more than he would admit. “Some people just like the heavy stimulation. Some convert it to sexual energy, and some use it for a cathartic release. It is also used as a way to intensify a relationship.” He ran a hand over Jim’s back.

“Wow, that feels really different,” Jim said sleepily. He moved his torso to get the full effect. “Kind of velvety. How did you do that?”

Matthew laughed. “It’s your back getting warmed up. If we had more time I would show you how nice a heavier flogger would feel on it. But for now you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

Jim turned with the air of someone who has just been roused from a nap, and gave us a drowsy grin. “Okay, what’s next?” he asked, much less nervous now.

Sir requested a cup of water, which he had Jim drink. There wasn’t enough time to do the kind of aftercare that Sir would give one of us after a flogging, even such a short one. But he kept a hand on the other man’s shoulder and waited for Jim to regain his normal level of alertness. After a minute, Jim handed me the empty cup and allowed Sir to guide him to the next station.

“Here we have a violet wand,” Sir announced as they waited for a small crowd of people to finish up and move away.

“A violent
what?”
Jim squeaked, trying to peer around the bodies to see what they were all looking at. A sudden sharp, unmistakable buzzing noise made him jump, and he stared at Sir, his eyes huge.


Violet
wand. Electric play,” Sir told him unnecessarily, since it was perfectly obvious now what we were waiting for. The group around the table moved away, laughing. “I’m sure sunni would love to do this part in your place if the idea doesn’t appeal to you.”

Jim seemed to seriously consider it, but then shook his head resolutely.

“No, I said I would try this and I’m going to.” He raised his head like a proud aristocrat going to the guillotine and stepped forward to where Roger stood, holding what looked vaguely like a curling iron.

“Are you interested in trying this?” Roger always seemed grumpy to me, and tonight was no different. His gray hair stood out in all directions as if he’d used the current on himself more than was good for him. His mouth turned down in a habitual frown like he wanted to go home and watch television. Jim glanced at him apprehensively and nodded, staring at the implement in Roger’s hand. It was probably easier letting yourself get zapped for the first time by someone who at least smiled, but there wasn’t much of a choice.

Jim tentatively offered his arm and Roger brought the wand close enough to create a sparking crescent of electricity, which he guided from Jim’s elbow to his wrist. The younger man jumped, but he seemed to be getting used to experimenting with focused sensation now. He held still after that, merely interested until Roger grew bored and shooed him on to bring up the next person.

The last station was a table where rope and plastic wrap was laid out. Mary manned this station, and she greeted Jim again. He stared at her adoringly while she explained how many people loved the feeling of being tied up or even wrapped from head to foot. As she explained the popularity of the ancient Japanese art form of
shibari
, she demonstrated a quick
takate kote
chest harness, tying his hands behind him. He seemed a little embarrassed but stood still as she worked, craning his neck to watch her.

“These methods can be modified to create a rope dress that can be worn for hours at a time,” she told him. “If you enjoy the feel of rope, there are lots of people who like to do ground work and even suspensions.” She pointed overhead to a large ring hanging from the ceiling.

He stared at it dubiously and muttered, “Maybe not tonight, thanks.”

Mary laughed, taking the harness off him. She did a quick circle of his chest with the plastic wrap, which gave me a shudder of memory and shame. sage was trying not to show her thoughts on her face, but no one else gave any indication they remembered the scene that had caused this whole situation. My stomach lurched, and I had to think about other things to keep from flushing bright red.

“Well, this has certainly been very interesting,” Cobb said as Mary unwrapped his colleague. “I would like to do an on-air follow-up interview with you, Jim, and Mr. Wulfgar.” He nodded at Sir, who inclined his head formally. Cobb glanced over at me and started to ask “Would you—”

“No,” Sir interrupted him. “My girls are not to be involved any more than they have been already.”

Jim looked at us, surprised, but Cobb nodded, holding out his hand to Sir and then Mary. “That’s fine. I’ll give you a call Monday, then, if that will work.” He didn’t add, “unless you’ve been arrested or anything,” but the unspoken words hung in the air as he and Jim said goodnight and walked out of the club.

Chapter 22

I unlocked The Fringe Element on Monday morning with shaking fingers. I had convinced Sir that I needed to be there as much as possible to learn how the store was run and what needed to be done on a daily basis, and that it was my duty to help Geri out with the store while she was ill, especially considering that the stress of the protests had probably contributed to her heart attack. He had not been happy about me going in by myself, but he needed to prepare for the news interview that night.

Debi pulled into the parking lot just as I opened the door. She strode in like a Goth chick on a mission, making me imagine action movie theme music. As I looked more closely at her, I saw that the black lipstick had been replaced by a more normal color. Her usually lethargic, unconcerned air was completely gone, and I thought that if Geri had seen this Debi she wouldn’t have been so quick to promote me to assistant manager.

“Okay, then,” Debi said to me by way of greeting. “How much did she tell you about running the store?”

I widened my eyes at her. “You’ve met Geri, right?”

She was startled for a second before bursting into laughter. “You’ve got a point,” she said, leading the way into Geri’s office. We spent the next three hours going through Geri’s desk, acquainting ourselves with the various reports that needed to be done, bank deposit slips, inventory receipts, and schedules. Debi had, to my surprise, actually been trained on the accounting software, and together we came up with a workable plan to make sure everything important got done while Geri was out. I went through the stacks of paperwork on the desk while Debi booted up the computer and placed a help wanted ad on craigslist. Her efficiency today was truly amazing, especially considering what a spoiled little brat she’d seemed to be a week ago.

When everything was stacked in neat piles and we each had a list of what we were going to be responsible for, Debi stood in the doorway, hands on hips, surveying the office with a satisfied air.

“I don’t think this room has ever been this organized before,” she said.

“I don’t think Geri ever realized what a great employee she has in you,” I told her, closing the door behind us.

“Right, boss.” Debi smirked at me, but she looked surprised and thoughtful as she started restocking the bins.

The front bell rang, and I automatically turned, taking two steps forward to greet the customer.

First I noticed the frumpy, pleated skirt and stared at it for a fraction of a second, wondering where I’d seen it before. When my eyes made their way past the rumpled button-down shirt toward her face, she spoke.

“Hello, Jessie.” It was Melissa. I had a sudden visual of her storming through the place, changing it to a religious supply store before Geri got back. I struggled to conceal a laugh at the image of Melissa solemnly placing a Bible into the hands of the dominatrix mannequin and put a serious, concerned look on my face.

“Oh, hi,” I said, remembering that I should probably be polite. Her mother had just had a heart attack, after all. “How is Geri? It was nice of you to go visit her.”

She shrugged as if her mother were the least of her concerns.

“That’s not why I’m here,” she said. “I’m here for Randy.”

It took a few seconds for that to register. “For—Randy?” I repeated, fighting the urge to say, “I don’t think we have any of those in stock.”

“Yes. Your husband.”

“Um…” We stared at each other while I wildly groped for something to say. All I could come up with was, “Why are you interested in Randy?”

She seemed to decide that I was a total moron. “Look,” she sighed, taking my arm and turning me toward the back of the store. “I need to talk to you. Privately.” She glared at Debi, who was surveying her with the amusement of the young and fashionable for the hopelessly tacky.

I gave Debi a theatrically horrified look and led Melissa to the office, debating whether or not to offer her a cup of tea or coffee but decided that after the way she’d treated Geri that she didn’t deserve it. I took the large desk chair as Melissa lowered herself into the least comfortable straight-backed seat she could find. She carried a clipboard and a Bible, which she laid in her lap with her hands reverently clasped on top of it.

“Okay, go ahead,” I said, still confused.

She narrowed her eyes like she could barely stand to look at me. “I don’t know if you are aware of this, but your husband Randy is now a completely different person than the man you were—
are—
married to.”

“Was,” I corrected firmly. She seemed to want to argue, but decided against it.

Instead she said, “He has come to the Lord, been washed clean of all his sins, and is sincerely trying to put his life back together. In the short time I’ve known him I’ve become very fond of him and concerned about his spiritual welfare.”

I resisted the urge to tell her that most women became very fond of Randy in a short period of time, but that it would pass. Kind of like a kidney stone. I nodded for her to continue.

“He wants nothing more than for you to accept Jesus as your personal savior and join him in a holy and consecrated life. He has told us of your—unconventional lifestyle, and I have come here to counsel you and help you see that the Lord can save you from this degrading and dangerous path.”

She smiled grimly now, like she presented me with the best gift I could ever receive, even though we both knew I didn’t deserve it. I was familiar enough with religious fanatics to know that was exactly what she thought.

“Thank you.” I nodded and tried to look as if I was considering her words carefully. “I appreciate your concern, but you should know that my lifestyle is really not dangerous or degrading at all. I’ve made my choice, and Randy needs to accept that and move on. I’ve filed divorce papers and he’ll soon be free to find a nice religious girl to be holy and consecrated with.”

Her face darkened. “You don’t understand,” she said flatly. “Randy
loves
you. Do you know what a gift that is?”

With Randy it was more like a curse, but I forced myself to nod seriously. “I do, but that doesn’t obligate me to stay married to him,” I said. “We’ve chosen different lives, and I could never make him happy. His new lifestyle just isn’t for me.” I moved to stand up and see if she would take the hint, but she stayed stubbornly where she was, shaking her head sadly.

“Jessie, Jesus can save you from this man who abuses you.”

To my surprise, Melissa sounded like she was on the verge of tears. Did she practice that? I remembered preachers I had seen who could cry spontaneously, an effective technique in some circumstances.

I heard a footstep behind the door and wondered if Debi was listening in. I smiled sweetly and tried again. “I don’t need saving, Melissa. Really. I am very happy in this lifestyle. It’s not abuse. It’s completely consensual, much more so than when Randy used to hit me—”

I knew immediately that I’d said the wrong thing. Her sad look disappeared and her eyes flashed fire.

“I am by no means a feminist,” she hissed at me, “and I think you were right to leave Randy when he was caught up in his sinful ways. But to pretend that
monster
is better for you than a clean, sober, sanctified man who loves you—” She sputtered to a stop.

I was tired of this conversation. I stood up and opened the door. No wonder Geri couldn’t stand this girl. Self-righteous pomposity poured off her like a chocolate fountain.

“That’s enough,” I said. “You need to leave now.”

She stood up and came to stand directly in front of me. I wanted to push past her, but she blocked the doorway, handing me a glossy, folded piece of paper. I almost groaned out loud. The front said,
In a bad relationship? Jesus can help.

“My number is on the back of this,” she said in a dramatic stage whisper, pressing the paper into my hand. “Call me if you want to talk, or if you need a place to stay.”

With that, she turned and stalked out of the store, her face pointed resolutely forward as if afraid she might catch a glimpse of something sinful and be contaminated. I half expected her to put up her hands to block her peripheral vision.

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