Wounds to Bind Chapter 18 – How do you feel about that?
Friday, August 19 –CPOV
I shook left hands with Sela when I appeared at her office. I feel shaking left hands with Sela is becoming easier. She urged Flynn and me to sit down. "I want to ask some questions before we begin. If at any time you are uncomfortable answering, let me know." She made eye contact with me and I nodded.
"You were adopted at four and did not speak until you were six?" Sela refers to my case history
"We've been over this," I huffed.
"I'm not prying but a thought crossed my mind. A normal four-year-old has a vocabulary of about fifteen hundred words. Do you remember talking before you were adopted?" Sela continues her line of questioning.
"No," I answered, honestly. "I know I said Mommy, so I think I talked. After Ella died, I always thought words in my head until Mia came along. Mia was my first word after I was adopted."
"Do you remember why you said Mia?"
"She was crying and I didn't think Mom heard her. I found Mom and pulled her by the hand toward Mia's nursery. She kept asking me what was wrong. I told her 'Mia' and pointed to the door. Mom opened the door to Mia's nursery and took care of her." I paused. "Then Mom smiled, patted my head and told me I was wonderful for helping Mia. I think I was attached to Mia when I saw her. I didn't want her to go away. I remember holding her for hours. I remember making her laugh. I remember rocking her to sleep. I adored her. When I had silent night terrors, I would sneak down the hall to Mia's nursery and sleep on the floor beside her crib, or her bed."
"Did you have eye contact with your father or brother before you started speaking?"
"I don't think so. Elliot tells an awful story of how scary I looked when I was having a meltdown. I remember being afraid of Dad, but he never touched me harshly. He would cuddle with Elliot and I would sit next to him – not touching of course. He read to us. He would do voices and would show me the pictures. He taught Elliot to read. Mom says I would not say the alphabet aloud nor count, but I could write the alphabet, and write from one to a hundred before I turned five. I knew how to spell and write a lot of words before I began talking, before I began to read," I remembered.
"I'd like to see some pictures of you from the time you were four until you were six," Sela noted the request in her chart.
"Why?" I don't think I've ever looked at the family photo albums which Mom keeps in her home office.
"I wonder if you had facial expressions, a social smile, or a happy face while you played. Were you in your own world? Did you play by yourself?" Sela waited for my answers.
"I received a blue helicopter for Christmas after my parents adopted me. I played with the helicopter for hours. I believe the helicopter is in a box on a closet shelf in my childhood bedroom. I took excellent care of my toys." I explained.
"Were you physical as a child? Playing ball, riding bikes, swimming?" Some of Sela's questions seem easy.
"I was hell on wheels," I repeat Grandpa Theo and Grandma Frannie's nickname for me. "Rollerblades, skateboard, go carts, bikes. I wasn't good at team sports because I didn't like to be touched. Sometimes I would go with my parents or grandparents to watch Elliot play soccer or T-ball. They always picked a bleacher row where there were few people and put me on the end of the row, putting their body between me and any other spectators." I sighed. "I was one of the reasons they bought a house with a pool…because I couldn't take swimming lessons with other kids. Indoor pools were too noisy and crowded. Dad spent Saturdays one summer teaching Elliot and me to swim."
"Did you have many childhood friends?" Sela inquired.
"No and I don't have many adult friends either. I mostly played with Elliot and Mia or by myself. I was very self-sufficient." I suddenly want to go sailing with my siblings, their significant others and Ana.
"Can you empathize with others? Are you insensitive to other's feelings?" Sela continued her questions.
"Flynn says I don't have an empathetic bone in my body," I futilely attempt humor.
"Did you engage in small talk with submissives?" Sela's discomfort at the question was evident. She crossed her legs and her right foot tapped the air.
"No, my submissives didn't speak unless given permission – both in and out of the playroom. Our initial meeting was discussion of hard and soft limits, rules, expectations, etc. I felt relieved not to make small talk or superficial conversations with one another on weekends. We never…" I paused, thinking of Sabine. "Sabine was different, she was a project and a submissive. Sabine and I always discussed her classes, her class projects and her company…while we spent time out of the playroom on weekends. I have my own elevator at work so I don't endure staff flirting with me, or checking me out, or aggravating me. I have my own private elevator at Escala also."
"Do you have repetitive routines? Up at the same time, etc."
"Unless I had a night terror, I'm up at six. I usually work out, shower, dress, breakfast, go to work, etc. Lunch is usually a working lunch or a business meeting during lunch, work to six or later depending on work situations. Work out if I'm stressed. Shower, eat dinner while working in my home office. In bed between ten and midnight. Sleep for four or five hours. Play music to soothe myself if I had a night terror. Sleep again if possible." I outline my day for her. "The only time I slept for longer periods of time was when Ana slept with me. I never had night terrors while sleeping with her or sleeping beside Mia's crib or bed."
"You learned to play the piano at six," Sela read from my chart. "Do you play the same piece of music over and over again when you self soothe?"
"I'd have to ask Taylor, but I think I do. Chopin's Prelude in E-Minor is a favorite. I play classical music because the chords and fingering are more complex. I generally play from memory."
"You excelled in school? Larger than average vocabulary?" Sela consults her question list, which me of Ana during the interview.
"Mom homeschooled me until I was six. She enrolled me in a private school. She met with the administration and warned them I couldn't be touched without issues."
"Do you have a good memory from that time?" Sela watches my face.
"My Grandma Frannie covered for Mom when there were school events my parents couldn't attend because they were working. My kindergarten teacher asked my Grandma Frannie to refuse to cover for the Valentine's Day class party. Mom was shocked at Grandma's refusal and rearranged her schedule. My teacher and I arranged a surprise for Mom. I had learned to read. When Mom came to the classroom, I took her by the hand to the reading circle and handed her a book. She thought she was reading to me, thinking I was overwhelmed by the parents, kids and noise in the room. Instead, I climbed into her lap, opened the book and read to her. I made her cry, because I sat in her lap. I was the only child in kindergarten who read. I read daily to the class for the rest of the semester." I paused.
"That sounds like a sweet memory," Sela takes notes. "So, how about the rest of your educational years?"
"I excelled in my classes from elementary to the end of middle school. I was on the Saturday track and field team in middle school, so I didn't shower until I got home. Freshman and sophomore years were a nightmare. I didn't like stripping and showering after gym. Mom tried getting me into the last gym class of the day, so I could shower at home, but sometimes gym classes didn't coordinate with my schedule. My quirk made the guys taunt me, saying I was gay, which resulted in fighting and expulsion."
"Once I began a relationship with my Domme, I excelled at school. I quit drinking. I quit fighting. I took online classes in the summer to make up for flunking out my freshman and sophomore years. I attended online classes over school breaks to earn credits toward graduation. I graduated from high school in the top ten of my class and was accepted by Harvard. I could have gone to UDub, but I wanted to be away from my family."
"Why did you want to be away from them?" Sela's question has alerted Flynn and he watches me also.
"I think my decision was self-preservation. I had my sexual relationship with my Domme. She was a friend of my Mom's. I had to keep my family from learning about us, discovering our affair and the lifestyle," I paused. "She ordered me to go to UDub, but she risked exposing us which bothered me."
"How did you handle physical education requirements your junior and senior high school year?"
"Once I joined the rowing team, I didn't take physical education, so showering wasn't an issue. Mom made sure my gym bag always had a container of wet wipes. I could use them in the bathroom stall and not show my scars to the universe. My uniform covered my scars. My coach was warned by my parents not to touch me. I could do a team hand stack at the start or end of an event. I could do the hand brush thing teams do with one another at the beginning and end of an event. I excelled at rowing in high school and when I went to Harvard. I have trophies. Mom and Dad came to Harvard a couple times to see me row. I didn't crew – or row with teammates. I single skulled – which is a solitary rower. My trophies are in my parents' boathouse." I paused and Sela observed the expression on my face.
"What was that thought?"
"I don't know why I don't row any more. I love sailing, flying, soaring, running, kick boxing, kayaking, and mountain biking, but I don't row anymore. I don't know why." I muse for a minute. "Sawyer has been teaching Elliot, Taylor and me how to rock climb."
"Think about rowing, we'll discuss again. Describe your roommate situation at Harvard," Sela directed.
"No roommates. Mom and Dad found an off-campus one-bedroom apartment over a stand-alone three-car garage at a doctor's home. Dad paid to have extra insulation piped into the walls, floor and ceiling. He paid to outfit the bedroom with portable sound barriers over the windows in case I had a night terror. If I screamed bloody murder in the middle of the night, I didn't disturb my landlords or the neighborhood."
"Did you interact with classmates? Pizza and beer? Shooting pool? Female study buddies? Fraternities?" Sela paused while listing activities.
"My Domme didn't let me fraternize. She didn't want me chatting up girls. I did group projects as required for classes, but I didn't voluntarily have female study buddies. I didn't hang out in bars or pool halls. I didn't join a fraternity. I couldn't empathize with incoming freshmen who were desperate to pledge. Sigma Alpha Epsilon tried to rush me all three years I was there, but I wasn't interested." I think of how confined my life was because of Elena's orders. I think of Elliot's college days and can't help but compare his normal experience to my cloistered experience.
"No dating, no kissing, no sneaking a girl into your bedroom at home while you were in high school? No playing touchy feely with a willing girl in the stacks at the library in college?"
"My Domme prohibited boy-girl relationships; which I didn't want anyway. I never knew where a girl would touch me. My Domme was all I wanted. She was all I thought I needed." I offer no apology.
"But now you want to be in a physical relationship with a young woman?" Sela commented.
"Yes," I hung my head. "I can't hurt her again. I want her. I need to be able to touch her and she needs to be able to touch me. Hugging, kissing and making love. I need to get past this touch aversion."
"Can you memorize information and facts easily? Especially if you are interested in the topic?"
"Yes," I laughed. "Ask me the performance stats for my R8 Spyder or for a Eurostar EC class helicopter."
"I assume there were rituals and rules with your submissives." Sela's body language broadcasts her unease. "I embarrass easily, so you are not required to be explicit."
"My submissives came to my penthouse from Friday evening to Sunday evening. Our first tryst in the playroom was usually her performing oral sex to take the edge off my week. She would be restrained and blindfolded using different positions, furniture and toys. Our scenes would increase in intensity, then our scenes would decrease in intensity. The harshest toys and physically strenuous positions were used late Saturday afternoon until early Sunday morning so her body had recovery time before she left."
"Did you ever zone out when you were in a scene with a submissive?"
"I did a couple times when I was a submissive. My Domme called it subspace. However, I never zoned out when I was a Dom. I was in control. If I zoned out, my submissive could have been injured. It's a matter of watching how they breathe, tense their muscles, physical responses signal they were reaching their limit if they were gagged. There are lots of little tells which let me know to continue or to stop, or let me know if they were close to an orgasm or not. I had one submissive who was hurt during a suspension scene; the rope slipped, injuring her. She required medical attention. I ended the contract immediately and paid her doctor, hospital and recovery charges. I needed time to process what happened. Full body suspension lost its appeal for a long time."
"The worst I've zoned out was when Ana left. I was still feeling numb when Taylor came back from taking her home. Then I concentrated on building her gift, a glider model. Once I started building, I realized the passage of time at dawn on Sunday."
"Do you often have violent outbursts? Meltdowns? Quick to anger?"
"Is there a reason for these questions?" I snapped.
"This is the last question in this group. Bear with me, please." Sela implored.
"Yes, I frequently yell at my staff. I throw things. My IT guru, Barney and my lead CPO, Taylor, keep a smart phone or two charged, ready to replace one I have destroyed." I admit. "They are both well-trained in transferring information from one phone to another in less than ten minutes."
"Flynn," she tapped her pencil on the paper where she wrote notes. "Did you read all of the background notes from Christian's previous therapists?"
"Yes, but your reference is escaping me. Asperger's Syndrome - a mild case? Although Asperger's was first diagnosed in the 1940s, there weren't diagnostic manuals until the 1990s. By then Grey would have been seven and was talking and excelling at school. Dr. Trevelyan probably didn't see her first diagnosed case of ASD before then." Flynn postulated.
"ASD?" I have no reference for this acronym.
"Autism spectrum disorder. Your last therapist, Barlow, suggested you be tested for ASD when you were fourteen. I believe your previous therapists did not listen and perhaps misdiagnosed you." Sela handed the report to Flynn.
"I understand where he might have misdiagnosed Grey." Flynn admitted. "Do you remember what happened with Barlow?"
"He urged Mom to admit me to the hospital for at least three to five days of tests. Mom mentioned his recommendation; I went ballistic, called Barlow an asshole. I ran away to Grandma Frannie and Grandpa Theo's house. They offered to let me spend the rest of the summer with them. They intervened with my parents. They were against my being subjected to testing by medical staff I didn't know."
"That explains a lot. When did you get a new therapist?"
"I didn't," I admitted. "I was in the D/s relationship just after my fifteenth birthday, a month later."
"You quit being a disruptive teen after engaging in sex with her?" Sela asked. I nodded. "I believe your parents didn't insist you see another therapist because your attitudes changed."
"You had four therapists before me," Flynn noted.
"Because of the night terrors," I admitted.
"I think you may have PTSD from your first Domme. I think her touch during some scenes retraumatized you. I don't think you've mentally dealt with the possibility yet. You need to experience healthy touch to reduce your sensitivity to painful physical or emotional touch."
"My only Domme. I was her submissive from the age of 15 to 21. Then, I became a Dominant. Well, I've had about all of the talking I can stand right now," I sigh. "Can we get on with the touching?"
"Let's talk about touch for a minute," Sela suggested. "I saw a video of you at the WSUV graduation. You shook hands with over nine hundred graduates and several of the provosts and professors."
"I would have given my business empire for case of Purell," I laughed. "You should give business courses on how to shake hands to graduating college seniors. Shaking hands was an automatic response because all I could think about was Ana. I knew I would see her, and touch her even if it was a brief handshake."
XXX – APOV
"Hope you don't mind a late dinner." Harley and Shawn arrived around eight. "Shawn had a late meeting at work."
I share my new GP tablet with Harley and show him how to access my emails, calendar and manuscript server. He and Shawn work on information access while I plate the dinner they brought with them: Steak au Poivre, roasted fingerling potatoes, Caesar salad, hot rolls and fresh strawberry tartlets. Waiting for dinner made me hungry; their dinner was worth the wait.
"We can't access anything at Grey Publishing. They have one hell of a firewall," Shawn whistled with admiration. "Which reminds me, you need to upgrade the firewall you use at here at the condo. We discussed the possibilities."
"Kate's with Elliot, Ethan's with friends," I explain. "If we're doing this, we need to do it tonight because I don't know their schedule for next week."
"Do you know her computer password?" Shawn has opened a steel-sided briefcase.
"Yes, I used Kate's computer when I didn't have one. I have Ethan's password because he let Elliot use the laptop one night." I indicate Kate's home office section of our living room. "Ethan's laptop is in his bedroom."
"The good news is, no one will be able to hack you when I'm done. The bad news is the GP firewall bars us from tracking Hyde's actions on the GP server. The good news is we hacked his brokerage house. I hope GEH has someone who is computer literate tracking access to the servers." Shawn attached a stand-alone hard drive to Kate's laptop.
"Knowing how security conscious Christian is, I believe Grey Publishing track servers, "I laughed.
"We'll put a firewall on your phone. Keep your antivirus up-to-date. Use the audio blocker when we visit you." Harley showed a small piece of equipment to me. "I'll put the audio blocker in the bottom drawer of your desk. Just check for full green lights when you turn the audio blocker on before we come over. If the light ever goes red, tell me when we arrive. I'll troubleshoot for you. This is a portable audio blocker, which you use when you are out with friends – lunches, shopping, etc. The portable blocker prevents videos, photographs, and listening to conversations."
Harley works on firewalls after dinner. Shawn helps me create lists of ensembles to wear for fall. We talk about the clothes I have and the clothes I need. We talk about what coworkers wear. He nodded with understanding about the casual Fridays at SIP, and upgraded fashions and personal attire since we became GP. Then Shawn starts teaching me about capsule wardrobes and how to work with them.
XXX
Christian yanked me out of the elevator in the parking level and pushed me against the wall. 'I'm going to spank you for the exercise clothes in the gym today. Every creeper in the place was checking out your ass.'
'Red,' I whimpered.
'No,' he bit my neck. 'Blush pink like your other cheeks. Over my knee so you can feel what you do to me. Bare ass. Hands restrained by your panties. Then I'm pushing you up against the wall and burying myself in you so deep you will be so sore tomorrow that you can't cross your legs.'
'Why do you bite my neck, sir?' I asked; my voice small, husky, breathless with anticipation.
'There is a small bundle of nerves located near your carotid artery. Biting, sucking, licking…it sends endorphins to your brain.' He murmured, his breath hot on my ear.
'Mummmm,' I moan as he tugs me over his knees, his arousal pressing against my belly. My panties are off, my hands are restrained…and when he spanks my sex the first time…I'm soaking wet!
…and wide fucking awake! How am I supposed to get my required hours of sleep, SIR, when you are a Dom in my dreams? Thank god for the weekend so I can sleep as late as I want. I reach for the GEH tablet and read first chapters of three manuscripts before I fall asleep.
XXX – CPOV
Elliot's security reports he and Kate went out with some of her friends from work. Ana had company arrive shortly after they left. Striker's man listed the license plate number and acquired pictures of Harrison and his roommate. Fuck me! What the hell is going on? I order Striker's team to follow both men when they leave and to get their asses moving on researching them.
Saturday, August 20 – APOV
I called Mom to make sure I was still welcome on Labor Day weekend without Christian. I explained Christian and I are still taking a break from one another and working on our individual issues. She suggests he'll make an impromptu visit like last time. I advise her not to count on seeing him. I tell Mom I want one last perfect day of swimming with her at one of the local beaches.
I'm flying red-eye again and I won't be upgraded to first class. I use Amber's Sudoku frame to create a list of casual wear to pack. I will take the plum dress, shoes, purse and lip gloss with me in case Mom wants to go to their country club for dinner. I research Amazon and buy a wool and cashmere blend plum jacket. The jacket will arrive before the holiday weekend. I purchase space bags so I can pack my carry-on suitcase. I purchase a TSA approved toiletries pack. I purchase a portable clothes steamer. Shawn gave me a URL for a You Tube video about how to pack. I hope the video is as good as he claims.
If Mom wants to go shopping for my birthday, I have a list of fall things Shawn says I need. Thanks to my work-assigned tablet and WIFI, I can access manuscripts on the GP server and read the first chapters of several manuscripts when the urge strikes me in Georgia. I have the synopsis form downloaded on my laptop.
Kate has a sailing date with Elliot's family followed by a barbeque at Grey Manor on Labor Day. I told her I'll be arriving at six o'clock on Tuesday morning. She promised either she or Elliot will pick me up at SEA-TAC, by the baggage claim area.
Kate wants to celebrate my birthday on the Saturday, the seventeenth. She wants to go clubbing and I guess I'd better cooperate. However, I remember drinking before graduation and ending up in Christian's bed. I will make sure I don't drink or fall into anyone's bed. So, if I need to be the designated driver and not drink, I will volunteer.
I make a list of hearty fall stews and casseroles to cook for Dad when I go to Montesano my birthday weekend. Cooking in Montesano will be easier than transporting dozens of meal-sized containers. I'll shop at the big grocery store on my way out of town. I have a grocery shopping list ready to go on my phone.
Dad wants to take me to Geppetto's for my birthday dinner. I love their salads and manicotti. Dad promised me tiramisu in lieu of birthday cake. He's excited I'm coming for a visit. He has someone he wants me to meet. I hope he didn't arrange a blind date with one of the younger veterans he knows from the VFW. I'm already dealing with hints from Kate about dating again. I remind her about the taking things at my own pace lecture. She tells me I'm not pacing myself – I haven't left the starter blocks in weeks. I don't tell her I'm turning down weekly dinner, movies, drinking, clubbing and dancing offers from Ethan. I state when there is something worth chasing on the playing field, I will be there.
August 23 – CPOV
Ros and I are back in Detroit, covering the Detroit Brownfield Redevelopment Authority's offers and projections. Part of me hates being here because of my past, but Ros doesn't know why I'm dragging my feet with them. She reminds me to get my head into the game. I know my head is in Seattle, thinking about Ana.
This real estate offer needs to happen in real time. We have a great liaison in Detroit, who knows the EPA rules, liability issues and cleanup requirements. We've read the EPA site investigation report. Between the EPA and Ros, we have a Remedial Action Plan. We've interviewed and hired a national company known for their brownfield successes. Six months should get the job done. We're converting an airbag manufacturing site into a fiber optics plant. We're stripping out equipment, selling what can be used and recycling the remaining metals. Once we get a case closure from the EPA in March or April of next year, we can renovate the plant, install the equipment we need and hire staff. The community wants to wine and dine us, but Ros and I thank them and explain we are expected in Seattle.
Three days in Detroit taxed me. I've had night terrors every night since we've been here. Taylor hovers. Once Ros and I are on the jet and headed back to Seattle, I hid in the master suite and Skype Flynn to tell him I've been in hell. Not even the Ana DVD or body pillow helped. Detroit still has the ability to destroy me.
August 26 – APOV
"I am a jeans, t-shirts and hoody girl," I argue with Kate.
"You need sixty clothing items per fall/winter and spring/summer seasons," Kate writes essentials I must buy. "Sixty items include tops, bottoms, dresses, jackets, sweaters, etc. You should have at least a dozen pairs of shoes, boots, etc. per season, but they don't count in your sixty pieces. Neither does underwear."
"Kate," I moaned. "I have a serious psychological condition – clothes-shop-a-phobia. I hate shopping, especially on sale days, like Black Friday. You know Mom's taking me shopping next weekend for my birthday. Why can't I keep shopping via the Internet? I find pictures of things I like on Pinterest and then shop on Amazon for similar items. I can shop in my underwear. I don't have bitchy sales associates appraising me when I try on clothes. Remember the snarky snatch saleslady when I consignment shopped with my coworkers?"
"Basically, you shop in your underwear when you are trying on clothes," Kate quipped. "I'm not letting this go. You consignment shopped with your coworkers. Then one Friday night when I'm with Elliot, you consignment shopped again. You brought great clothes – but I like to shop with you. Pick one thing to add to your wardrobe this month."
"Can I search for a perfect holiday tunic and leggings?" I hope for an easy task.
"NO," Kate is adamant. "You need to up your wardrobe. You're working for a Grey House subsidiary now. I saw the pictures Mia has of the Grand Opening for GP. Every woman and several of the men are dressing better, hoping to catch Christian's eye."
I sighed loudly. "I need to make Kate Kavanagh understand the word no."
"Ana," Kate groaned. "I'm desperate for someone to shop with me."
"Call Mia," I suggested. "I don't want to go to the mall."
"Ana, Elliot is spending Saturday with Christian, which means I must find something to do. Since you're not spending time with Christian, his family is first on his go-to list." Kate frowned.
"I thought Christian was working weekends?" I murmured.
"I'll make you a deal, you shop consignment until one o'clock. Then you meet Mia and me at Wild Ginger in the Bravern Center before 1:30 for lunch. We'll have an absolutely yummy lunch while we girl talk. We'll spend an hour or two at the mall. We'll come home and I'll check out what you bought." Kate concedes.
"You're critiquing my purchases?" She exasperates me!
"No, I'm checking out what you bought." Kate shrugged. "I'll help you make a list of ensembles."
"Lord, give me strength. I hate buying clothes…why can't I avoid this altogether? Mom bought a bunch of stuff before I went to work for SIP…GP. You gave me a bunch of stuff. I bought more stuff. I have over thirty days of work clothes. I think I have enough."
"You need a dressy winter coat and a casual winter coat. The blue one you own has worn elbows. Donate to a coat drive. Someone can wear your current coat for another winter. You need more sweaters for fall." Kate pointed out. "You need tights instead of stockings for cold days when you wear a skirt. You need new winter boots."
"FINE… tell me what I need to buy." I access the list Shawn gave me. I can compare her list to Shawn's list. Perhaps I can buy enough clothes to keep both of them happy. I need the list to rein Mom in when I go to Georgia. My favorite movie will become The Devil Wears Prada!" Sheesh… I miss the days of t-shirts, flannel shirts, jeans and Converse at Clayton's Hardware.
XXX – Taylor's POV
I tried to intercept Mia – but she is a sister on a mission.
"What the hell?" Mia shrieked.
"Jesus Mia!" Christian yelled back. "What are you doing here?" He quickly wrapped his robe around him, whirling around. His knee caught the tailor kneeling in front of him in the eye and sent him flying back three feet. In the tailor's haste to get away, he scrambled over Sela's feet, scratching her deeply with the tape measure. She shrieked and grabbed her feet, swinging them up on the couch. Her feet landed with force in Flynn's crotch. Flynn was up off the couch. His face turned the color of his maroon velour robe. He was on his knees groaning and trying to catch his breath.
"I stopped by to tell you Kate and Ana will be at Bravern Center tomorrow. We're meeting for lunch at 1:30. I didn't know I was walking in on an orgy!" Mia yelled.
"WE'RE NOT HAVING AN ORGY!" Christian roared. Mia was speechless. The tailor was on his knees, moaning, Sela pulled her robe as tight around her as possible, while dripping blood on Christian's white leather couch from her gouged foot. Flynn turned a very unbecoming shade of purple. Christian's face was beet red until he caught sight of my face. Then he lost control, dropping onto the couch, howling with laughter. Sela caught a case of the giggles. The tailor and Flynn were still speechless.
"Miss Grey," I tried to explain, "your brother was having a touch therapy session tonight…"
"GROSS!" Mia yelled and plugged her ears… "La-la-la-la" she started sing-songing over and over.
'Fuck me to tears,' I thought. "Miss Grey!"
She stopping singing and removed her fingers from her ears.
"This is Sela Koch; she's been hired as a traumatic touch therapist. John Flynn, your brother's regular therapist. Miles Baerbaugh, your brother's tailor, agreed to come here tonight to fit your brother for new suits. Sela wanted to see how Mr. Grey deals with touch when he clothes shops."
"Christ," Mia muttered. She wouldn't voice her thoughts about seeing a distinguished looking older man on his knees in front of Christian with an audience. "Why are they in robes and what was he doing on his knees?"
"I told them I wouldn't be the only partially dressed person in the room. The entire group would participate. Miles was measuring my inseam," Christian finally wiped the tears from his eyes. "Did you see enough Sela – or is the three of you injured because I dropped my pants enough touch therapy for tonight?"
'At least it wasn't injury caused in the playroom. That sight would take gallons of bleach for Mia's brain and intensive therapy.' I fetch the first aid kit to bandage Ms. Koch, and an ice pack for Baerbaugh's black eye. Flynn will handle his injuries himself or limp home to Mrs. Flynn.