Returning to the waiting room was surreal. Cat felt weighed down by the collar – and yet strangely free and weightless at the same time. Tara's hand remained steady on the back of her neck. Solid. Anchoring. A reminder of the promise she'd made in the bathroom.
The receptionist glanced up. A curl of her lip showed her disdain for Cat's appearance. Or the reason for her appearance. That stiffened Cat's spine. She was done embarrassing Tara. When Tara sat in one of the chairs, Cat immediately knelt at her side. She maintained the same formal pose she'd used right before her "punishment."
The pose was hard to maintain. Cat's body fought the position. Without a Dominant, Cat rarely knelt for long periods of time. Despite the carpet, her knees soon ached. Her thighs burned while her feet went numb. She'd just reached the realization that she would have to shift around when a hidden door opened and a tall, slender woman in a tailored pantsuit emerged.
"Good morning. Thank you for waiting. I'm Margaret Tinsale." Cat couldn't see anything except feet and fascinating carpet fibers. From the way Tara stood and moved closer to Tinsale, she assumed they shook hands. "You're Ms. McClearen's Domme." It wasn't a question. It didn't have to be a question. Tara's collar gleamed around Cat's neck.
Tara murmured a quiet, "Yes. Tara Maclay. We appreciate you finding time to see us. Janelle was very sure you'd be able to help us." Her right hand brushed Cat's shoulder, and Cat stood at the gentle pressure.
"Please come into my office, Tara. My service wasn't able to provide a lot of information as to the reason for your visit." Tinsale's voice moved away, through the hidden doorway. Tara followed with Cat chugging along like a deaf mute caboose. "Have a seat. Would you care for a drink?" Tinsale was the perfect host.
"Water would be perfect, thank you." Tara hesitated, and Cat nearly rear-ended her. She'd never followed a Domme in sub pose and almost didn't read Tara's body language in time. "Cat, get a pillow from the pile and then you may sit next to me."
Tara must have noticed Cat's discomfort in the waiting room. "Yes, Ma'am." Breaking position long enough to locate the cushions, Cat chose one in an ugly floral print and took her spot at Tara's feet. The position was far more comfortable than kneeling – and it was improved even more when Tara pulled Cat's head in close so it rested on her thigh.
"I'm afraid Cat and I bonded late," Tara told Tinsale with a shameless interpretation of reality. "My work…it keeps me busy and on the road. Perhaps I wasn't as open as I should have been."
As Tara talked, her hand brushed through Cat's hair. With a sigh, Cat leaned into the touch. It felt so good. So…safe. She closed her eyes and floated on the safety of Tara's caress as she followed the conversation.
"I'm a consultant for Gachnar Enterprises." Tara's statement was unexpected that Cat started in surprise and the fingers in her hair went from caressing to gripping. "As you can see, Cat has yet to fully embrace her role."
"That would be a problem," Tinsale agreed. "In your position, you must meet clients and attend company events. You'd need a submissive that enhances your status."
Tinsale's comment implied that Cat was (or would be, if any of this was real) a blot on Tara's career path. "Exactly." Tara released Cat's hair and placed her hand under Cat's chin, raising Cat's eyes from the floor. "You, sweetie, are beautiful," she said intently while Cat blushed and tried to lower her eyes. The fingers on her chin tightened in a clear warning to keep her eyes on Tara. "Little things like this – and the scene in your waiting room – have embarrassed me and my employer."
Tinsale stood and walked to a banquette along one wall of the office. "There are several treatment options available, Tara."
"Would it be impetuous to say I'll try them all?" Tara stroked her thumb over Cat's lips. "We need a solution. Yesterday. I've tried discipline…"
"Poor results?" Cat hated the offhand tone in Tinsale's voice. Not to mention that being talked about as if she wasn't in the room made her teeth grind.
A hint of Tara's normal half-smile flickered and disappeared. "She moves too stiffly afterward. Answering questions from colleagues and clients about her condition is just as bad as the poor behavior. And then, of course, the punishment doesn't change the actions. There's something more going on. Something Cat isn't telling me."
The visit was getting too close to reality. Cat wanted to pull away. What the hell was Tara doing? She was supposed to be questioning Tinsale. The whole charade had simply been created to get them in the door. "Tara," Cat whispered, turning her head in an attempt to hide her comment from Tinsale. "What are you doing?"
She didn't expect Tara to stand up and move away. Cat's hands reached after Tara and then dropped to her sides. "Tara?" Were they going to stop playing their roles now?
"I can't do this anymore, Cat," Tara said. Her shoulders slumped. "I can't…be with you when you aren't committed. You've shut me out of the bond. You don't share your thoughts or needs with me." Tara was definitely still in character. When she met Cat's eyes, Cat came to her feet immediately. Tara was crying! "How can I take care of you if you won't tell me how?"
"Tara, I…" Cat crossed the room in two quick strides, intent on holding her. Offering comfort.
Only Tara moved away again. And Tinsale was suddenly in the middle of things. "Tara, please. Why don't you take a moment? Take some time to compose yourself. Let me talk to Cat alone." Wrapping an arm around Tara's shoulders, she steered her to a different door than they'd originally used. "I have a private sitting and restroom through here. I'll come get you in a few moments."
Cat felt completely abandoned when the door closed behind Tara. She faced Tinsale uneasily, hands clenching and unclenching at her sides.
Tinsale made no attempt to force Cat to resume her position on the floor. In fact, she appeared to ignore her completely and returned to her seat behind the desk. Cat divided her attention between the doctor and the closed door.
"Bring her back," Cat finally said. She couldn't take the silence and she had no intention of playing whatever game Tinsale had in mind. She just wanted to see Tara and make sure she was alright.
Leaning back in her chair, Tinsale examined Cat closely. "Why?"
"Because she was crying, damn it. Tara shouldn't be crying." What the Hell was wrong with the woman? Cat spun and stared at the door.
"You're the one who made her do that. You're the only one who can fix it." Tinsale's voice sharpened. "Tell me why you're blocking your bond." The command was impressive but Cat easily ignored it. Tinsale wasn't Domme enough to control her.
When Cat didn't respond, Tinsale tried another line of attack. "I think you're angry, Cat. Angry and lashing out. Talk to me about that. If you really want to help Tara – and I know you do – you need to figure out why you act the way you do."
Slowly, Cat pivoted to face Tinsale. She had to remember this was an act. They needed Tinsale to refer them to support groups which might link them to the First Legion. "I don't know. I…I never…" Cat floundered, trying to stay in character. She had no idea what to say or do. Tara should have filled her in on the plan before they arrived.
"How did you feel when you bonded with Tara? You're a lot older than most people. Did you think it would never happen?" Tinsale's soft questions prodded Cat.
"I'd given up." As soon as she said the words, Cat knew how to handle Tinsale. She'd follow Tara's lead and mix reality with fiction. "I'm twenty-seven. I have…had a life." Tinsale disappeared from the room. In her place, Cat imagined Faith behind the desk and directed her comments at Faith. "You weren't there when I needed you. I'm not blocking the link. You are. I can feel it. Why can't you?" Cat was dimly aware she was yelling at Tinsale/Faith. "Why won't you let me in? What did I do to make you hate me enough to shut me out?"
Her last plaintive shout echoed through the room, and Cat realized she was soaked in sweat and tears. "I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry." Dropping into a chair, she covered her face with her hands. She was losing it, airing her private issues while undercover on a case.
"Don't be sorry." Tinsale smiled and came around the desk to crouch next to Cat. "It was honest, and that's what Tara wants, isn't it, Cat? She wants you to be honest about your feelings, about what you need from her. Dominants need to feel needed. They need to care for and protect their submissives. Tara can't do that if you won't talk to her."
Cat had been thankful when Tinsale had begun speaking. She hadn't blown their cover. She was sucking Tinsale into their charade. She was still confused, though. Tara and Faith had become inextricably intertwined. "What if…what if I don't know what I want?" she asked through her hands.
"That's why you and Tara are here. To find out what you want. What Tara wants, and how to bring all those wants together." Tinsale gently pulled Cat's hands away from her face. "Let me ask Tara to come back in, and let's talk about where we go from here."
As soon as the door opened, Tara made a beeline for Cat. She peered deeply into Cat's eyes, holding Cat steady.
"She's fine, Tara." Tinsale smiled and sat down, pulling a file from her desk. "Cat and I had a chat, and I think she's ready to open up. I'd like to schedule further one-on-one sessions with you both. However, I think you'd also benefit from meeting other couples as well." She held out a sheaf of papers. "I work with some truly dedicated groups. They meet once or twice a week, informally."
"I'm not sure…" Tara pulled Cat to her feet, sat down in the chair, and resettled Cat on her lap. "Groups don't seem to be what we need."
Tara's comment earned a nod from Tinsale. "You may be right. Yet you indicated you are recently bonded. And Cat shared with me that she isn't sure what she needs from you. I think she's been on her own so long she's having a hard time letting you care for her. Seeing the way other bonded couples interact will help both of you define your relationship."
Cat balanced on Tara's knees and took the proffered hint at Tara's gentle nudge. Feeling slightly ridiculous – she wasn't a little girl – she started to climb down until Tara's arms wrapped firmly around her middle. "What about something for just Cat? We spend time together when I'm home, on rare occasions. And I have her with me for company events. But she's often alone. Are there groups where she could go to talk to other subs in similar situations?"
They left the office twenty minutes later, Cat following Tara to the car. "What did you think?" Tara asked once they were both safely buckled in.
Cat shook her head. "I think we're going to spend the next several hours wasting our time. She was professional. She asked the right questions." She'd managed to get Cat to say things she'd never even known had bothered her. "The list of groups she gave us… I'm familiar with several of them. In fact, I've even referred victims' families to a few. They're reputable." She rubbed her temple. Fake visits to therapists were emotionally exhausting. Cat's head throbbed dully. "You did an awesome job in there, Ma'am. You even had me convinced I was some pampered eye candy you hauled to business functions."
Tara's giggle filled the car, and Cat smiled at the sound. She glanced over, enjoying Tara's carefree expression, too. She really was very pretty. "If I ever went to those events," and her shudder indicated that would never happen, "I'd be afraid to let you out of my sight. I'd have to keep you leashed so no one tried to steal you away."
A slow flush crawled up Cat's neck. She could feel an ephemeral leash clipped to her collar. Feel the pressure as Tara tightened her hand around it, shortening the slack and keeping her possessively close.
"You have the list. Where should we start?" Tara started the car and raised an eyebrow at Cat.
Running through the names on the list, Cat mentally marked off the ones she knew. If they didn't find anything in any of the others, Jane and Maura could try those. Cat couldn't pose as a collared sub there. Someone would recognize her. "Passionate Couples. They claim to help couples learn to communicate and set them up with other groups of like-minded people. If that's not a lure for the First Legion, they are missing an opportunity."
Unfortunately, Passionate Couples' organizer was a thin, pale young man who stared earnestly at Tara and preached the need for honest, open conversation between her and Cat. He was a little overzealous, but Cat's cop instincts didn't see him as a recruiter for the Legion.
After the next two failed stops, at Hurting Relationships and Understanding the Real You, Cat was more comfortable in her role. She didn't chafe at kneeling at Tara's feet, enjoyed the way Tara constantly touched her in small ways, and felt ten feet tall when Tara murmured a soft, "good girl" when she'd done something to please her. It became a struggle to be rich, spoiled, unhappy Cat as they met and talked with the people behind the various groups.
They managed to visit every group on the list – and a few Tinsale hadn't mentioned but that Cat remembered from her research. She'd earmarked Dominants and Submissives Together as a possible escort service. Learning to Love was in a part of Roxbury that Cat wouldn't visit again without her shield and weapon. There was no way Avery Little had been a member of the group. The pinnacle of Cat's day, however, had been when another prospective group member for Love Never Lies offered to teach Tara how to keep Cat in line.
Who knew Tara used that kind of language?
Tara marched Cat back to the car so fast Cat had to trot to keep up. "He's lucky I'm pretending to be a software consultant. If I wasn't… I have the perfect spell to turn him into a rat!" She fumed as they pulled out of the parking lot and sped down the street. "I don't need a bigger whip. Dominance has nothing to do with forcing someone to obey. A real Dominant finds a way to convince the submissive they want to do what is asked because it pleases their Dominant."
Cat didn't argue. She'd heard plenty of discussions from both perspectives of this particular Dominant/submissive issue. She sat back and let Tara vent as they inched along in rush hour traffic. The stillness and growing dark reminded Cat she'd been up for a very long time.
When the diatribe faded, Cat noticed Tara watching her with furtive, sideways glances.
"Is something wrong, Ma'am?" Tara had probably been up even longer than Cat. She and Faith had already been at the station house when she'd arrived yesterday morning. "Do you need me to drive for a while?" She could even call for a radio car escort to clear a path for them.
"Nothing's wrong," Tara answered immediately. Then she sighed. "Sweetie, you don't have to call me 'Ma'am'."
Cat knew that. Faith didn't use it. Yet it felt right. She wore Tara's collar, at least for now. Something about wearing the collar made every interaction with Tara different somehow. "Do…do you want me to stop?"
"Not if you need to use it, Cat," Tara said quietly. "I promised, remember? As long as you belong to me, I will give you whatever you need." Her right hand settled on Cat's left thigh. "Anyway, I'm not tired. I'm used to these kinds of hours. They come with the Council ID. I know you're tired, though. Close your eyes and rest while I…drive us back."
Her touch drew away some of the pain from Cat's lingering headache. "'kay," she mumbled indistinctly. Tara was right. She was so very tired.
Cat woke when the car stopped moving. "Where are we?" It wasn't the station house. In fact, this house was huge and set well back from the road behind them.
"Maura and Jane's." Tara swallowed audibly. "Come on. I called to tell them we were coming." She avoided Cat's eye and climbed out of the car. She waited for Cat at the front of the car, and guided her inside with a hand at the back of Cat's neck.
The door opened before they reached the front steps. "Tara. Cat." Maura stared for a moment at that hand before stepping back and allowing them to enter.
It was no secret Maura had money. The interior of the house, though, was warm and homey. Cat loved the large, open living room and the shiny hardwood floors. A fire burned in a large fireplace along one wall. Despite the charming atmosphere and Maura as their host, Cat was uneasy. Something was wrong. Tara appeared strained.
"Cat," Tara said seriously, "I wanted to make sure Maura and Jane were here. Today couldn't have been easy for you, and I d-don't think you sh-should be alone tonight." Tara's sudden stutter, her clear unhappiness…
"Tara?" Cat looked at Maura for help and found none. Maura, too, looked stressed and unhappy.
With a pale imitation of her usual smile, Tara approached and pressed down on Cat's shoulders until she knelt on the floor. "Cat McClearen, I have been honored by your service, by the grace you have shown in my collar. At this time, I release you from your commitment." The sound of the collar unlocking was like a gunshot in the room, and it left Cat bleeding deep inside.