Authors: Sibylla Matilde
Brynn
“
I’ve told him pretty much all of it, how messed up am." I confessed to Rose as we sat in therapy a few days later. The sun shone through the window, and my fingertips toyed with the silk scarf I had looped around my neck. “Ever since we met, he’s been saving me. First from Evan. Now he’s even saving me from myself. In spite of how I’ve pushed him.”
“You’re tryi
ng to give him reasons to leave,” she surmised. “Everything you’re describing tells me that.”
“He deserves a lot better than me.
Someone a bit less unstable.”
“Brynn, you went through a horrendous experience. And you’re still healing. But you’re not ruined.”
“I may not be a lost cause, but I’m not easy to care about. Is it wrong that I want him to have some nice normal relationship?”
“
Of course it’s not wrong to want what’s best for him. You just need to realize that what’s best for him may be you.”
I chewed over that thought in my mind. And then I decided Rose was maybe not as smart as I’d always thought.
“He sounds like quite a guy,” Rose said softly, breaking the silence. “He sounds like he cares. Enough that you may not be able to scare him away.”
“
I told him about the rush I got from the pain with Evan.” I studied Rose while I thought for a moment. “He made a suggestion… told me that he wanted to try to give me that rush, but safely.”
“Like BDSM?”
I was a little shocked that she’d just mentioned something so taboo. She was a doctor. She was normal. Normal people didn’t know about stuff like that.
Then I nodded shakily.
“He asked me to trust him not to take it too far. Told me that Evan had gone too far, and for the wrong reasons.” I swallowed with some difficulty.
“Evan was abusive, not dominant.
Big difference. Admittedly, though, there’s a fine line between edge play and a truly unsafe situation. Evan was… dangerous. And you lost a great deal because of him.”
“What do you know about
it? BDSM? Bondage? Like as an emotional catharsis?” I asked softly, a little nervous about openly discussing this with someone.
Cool as a cucumber, Rose didn’t even blink.
“I think, right now, you want me to tell you that it’s dirty and nasty and that you’re crazy for even thinking about it,” she smiled. “But I’m not going to, Brynn. My own personal opinion is that it can be therapeutic in certain circumstances,” Rose said softly, “if it’s done with someone you trust, a rigger who knows your limits and can read your psycho-physical responses. It can actually help you reach a meditative state and release endorphins and enkephaline.” She wrote a few notes in her book and looked back up at me.
Every now and then, Rose
had the ability to shock the complete shit out of me. This was one of those times.
“Oh my God,” I murmured
.
“I’m not just a therapist, Brynn
,” she laughed at my astonishment. “It isn’t something that I put on my business cards, but I’m what they call kink-friendly.”
“I had no idea. You seem so normal.”
“I’m not sure anyone is normal,” Rose chuckled. “However, I’ve seen a lot of cases where bringing in BDSM did some amazing things for people. Giving them an outlet for their needs. Have you been thinking of trying it?”
“We did,” I admitted in a small voice
.
“What did you do?”
“Kian called it kinbaku.”
“
Bondage. A very erotic type that focuses on stimulating erogenous zones to enhance the entrancement. Rope-space can be very cleansing. Did it help?”
“Rope-space?”
“Like a trance,” Rose explained. “A state of controlled abandon.”
I nodded. Just thinking about the sensation sent flutters of desire through my body.
“It was… surreal. When it was over, I cried like a baby.” I could hear the wonder in my own voice, the intense emotion that the experience still brought out of me. “You know, I haven't cried since my miscarriage. And there I was. It was so strange. Something about the confinement of the ropes, the comfort and security. When he started to take them off, I couldn't stop the tears.”
“And what did Kian do?
Was there adequate aftercare?”
“
I’m not sure what that is, but he held me. He was tender and calm and… loving,” I whispered and tears came to my eyes again. “It was all so amazingly emotional. He scares me.”
“He scares
you? Or do
you
scare you?”
I couldn’t answer that.
Brynn
A heavy summer rain fell as I drove to Kian’s gym. Most people slowed down and drove more carefully when visibility was reduced a
nd reaction time was shortened.
I tended to do the opposite.
Especially when I was in a funk.
It was a
nother way to push the envelope, a rush of adrenaline to instill a mortal fear into my soul and replace the emotionally crushing weight that so often settled around me. And, right then, that weight had me all kinds of fucked up.
After the appointment with Rose, I was horribly unsettled. I usually left there feeling better, but
today’s visit had pulled out some things I didn’t want to think about. Things I couldn’t stop thinking about.
Because I
had truly grown afraid of losing Kian. I’d pushed for so long, and he stayed. I’d told him how bonkers I was, and he stayed. Not only had he stayed, but he’d reacted by giving me even more. More security. More understanding. More release.
And I grew more and more terrified. Because, a
s much as I wanted to believe this was something that could last, there were no guarantees. And at some point, he might throw in the towel and give up on me. He might decide that my baggage was too much of a burden. It already tore me to pieces to think of going on without him. And every day I felt like I needed him just a little bit more. At some point, it would reach a level that losing him would kill me.
Rose said I needed to be careful. That, in a typical defense
mechanism, I would probably try to push him away in an attempt to mitigate the pain I figured was inevitable. She expected it. When I finally confessed about that first romp in the gym and how I’d all but disappeared after, she hadn’t been surprised in the slightest. “And you’ll probably do it again. And again and again. You need to be aware of what you’re doing and why you’re doing it.”
He deserved so much better than me. I was like a
n old yo-yo, pulling away and being drawn back in by a long, fragile string. It made me dizzy, and it wasn’t fair to Kian.
With a tangle of emotion raging in my mind, I pulled up in front of the gym. Normally, Kian rode his bike, and
, when we were together, I was on the back. I loved it. It fed my thrill-seeking vibe every time he hit the throttle. The power reminded me how fragile I was. Yet, at the same time, pressed against his strong back with my arms wrapped around his waist, I knew he’d protect me from anything and everything.
I loved to be on the back of his bike.
But the scorching hot days and cool summer nights were forecasted over the next couple days, and with them heavy thundershowers. So I’d offered to swing by in my car after my appointment with Rose, after his class. No plans for Hyper tonight, just dinner at my place.
And, of course, everything after.
I loved that, too.
As I pulled up in front,
Kian walked to the driver side. Ever since we’d had that first disagreement so long ago, he’d always driven. It didn’t matter if it was his bike, his pickup, or my car. I’d never questioned it, just always handed over my keys.
But today I needed the control
.
“I’ll drive,” I said
after rolling down my window. It came out a little more decidedly than I had intended. Even I could hear the obvious challenge in my voice.
His brow furrowed. He knew something was up. But he didn’t fight me. He didn’t handle me with kid gloves, but he also didn’t push it when I
toed the line.
As he folded his large frame into the passenger seat of my car
, he looked at me suspiciously. “What’s up, baby? I get the feeling you’re a bit off-kilter.”
And the thing was, I didn’t know. I didn’t understand why I was feeling so raw. Why I was afraid of losing him when he
seemed so confident about us being together. I was scared. All I knew was that everything suddenly felt so out of control, and I didn’t like it. It pissed me off.
I chewed at my lip for a moment, debating the wisdom of my actions. In the end, I just shook my head and pulled out onto the wet city street. And, when I say I pulled out, I mean I floored it, tires spinning on the slippery pavement,
even a bit of a fishtail as I straightened. Kian’s hand tightened on the door handle, but that was the only outward sign of his apprehension. I didn’t look over at him, although I felt his eyes on me, knowing the expression he wore without even looking. A mixture of concern and unease. An intimidating look, really. And it generally brought me under his thumb.
But not today.
Instead I sped through traffic, weaving in and out of the cars that were driving so much more responsibly than me. I got honked at a few times, and one dude flipped me off as I zipped by him.
I could feel the questions
coursing through Kian’s mind. I could almost hear him wondering what had set me off this time. It didn’t take much. I was fucking nuts. And he was crazy for wanting me anyway.
As I approached a
red light, my foot nowhere near the brake, Kian broke the silence.
“You’re coming in kinda hot,
Brynn,”
“You know, this is a Monte Carlo, right?
” I countered, glancing at him quickly before focusing again on the road ahead. “They drive these fuckers in NASCAR. I’m just driving it like it’s meant to be driven.”
“Yeah, except in NASCAR, they don’t drive in the rain.”
I responded by shifting gears and stepping on the gas. As I closed in on the light, my own mind began to falter.
What the fuck was I doing
? But the light turned green as I approached, so my foot hit the floor and we flew through the intersection.
The irrational tension had knotted my shoulders and twisted my gut by the time we darted into my space in the parking garage beneath my building. I sat for a moment after shutting off the car, concentrating on my breathing, not entirely sure what was happening
inside my head.
Like Rose had
predicted, I was trying to drive him away. Before it killed me to see him go. My throat constricted and I could feel the prick of tears in my eyes.
Who was I kidding?
It would kill me now.
But it would be even worse later.
Knowing I should apologize but unable to talk for fear of crying, which I suddenly seemed very good at doing, I pulled my keys from the ignition and opened my door to the stagnant scent of the garage. I reached in for my purse and looped the strap over my shoulder, glancing over at Kian who stood on the other side of the car. His stout frame leaned slightly onto the car, his arms resting on the roof, and he studied me closely.
I swallowed hard and forced my voice to speak calmly. “I’m sorry. I know I’m being a bitch, and you don’t deserve that.” My voice cracked ever so slightly at the end, so I quickly turned towards the elevator. His footsteps echoed behind me, following me into the confining space. Kian’s tension
regarding my state of mind swirled with my own freakishly unstable mood. By the time we reached my apartment, I could barely breathe.
As we walked through the door, I tossed
my keys and purse down on the couch and stood unmoving, facing away and waiting for the questions.