Marcie tried to protest, but they were moving her over there. She was hobbling a bit. The level of pain from the CNC session had worked her over pretty good, and then she’d tightened up further during her argument with Ben. On top of that her knuckles hurt from hitting him. She’d used that same fist earlier in the day, and the security thug had a rib cage like a steel vault.
When they had her sitting, Rachel’s fingers moved over her, but Marcie shook her head, uncomfortable with the fussing. “‘It’s okay. He knew what he was doing, at least with the switch and the cane and…” She gave a hiccup, a near-hysterical snort. “That’d sound weird in the wrong crowd, wouldn’t it? I…it felt good and bad at once, you know. I’m okay. Just…tough session.”
Which she honestly might have loved if it wasn’t driven by something so wrong between them. If Ben had been seeing how much she could take because he liked to push his slave to that level for their mutual pleasure, it would have been ecstasy for her. Another sob caught in her throat, made her clutch Cass harder, where she sat next to her on the couch. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m sorry.”
“Sssshh.” Cass held her. “Just get it out, sweetie. It’s all right. We’re here. We’ve got you. Dana, can you find your way to my room and bring some warm clothes? I keep pajamas in the left top dresser drawer.”
“Flannels and bunny slippers coming right up.”
“She’s okay,” Rachel said, done with her cursory evaluation. “She’s right. Just sore and stressed. Do you have heat and ice packs?”
“Master bathroom closet. This is one of her favorite rooms in the house. Can you work on her here?”
“Yes, this is a good space. I’ll go get the packs and a warm throw for her to lie on while I work on her.”
“I’m sorry,” Marcie whispered. “I hate making you worry, making you have to do things for me.”
“Oh love.” Stroking her hair back, Cass kissed her forehead. “Do you know how long it’s been since you’ve needed me to do anything for you? I’m so sorry this happened, but I’ve actually missed being there for you every once in a while. You ask so little for yourself, always handling everything so well.” Marcie raised her head enough to see Cass smile through a sheen of tears. “I’m here for you, anytime.”
“We all are,” Dana said. She was back, and her fingers were loosening the laces of the pants. She’d been exploring them to determine their shape and workings. Now Marcie let out a combination sigh of relief and discomfort as they lifted her to her feet and removed them. She’d left the shoes where she’d crumpled and someone had put them neatly to the side of the couch.
When Rachel returned with a chenille throw, Savannah slid the tunic top over her head. Then her cool fingers caressed Marcie’s back, releasing the catch of the shelf bra, letting it slide down her arms. She took the leggings that Dana handed her, folded them up with the bra and put the clothes with the shoes while the others eased Marcie down to her stomach on the couch. She was now fully naked, but the warm throw felt good against her skin.
“No shame, sweetheart,” Cass said. “We’re all girls here. All the kids are gone for the night. Jon has them making robots in his workshop or learning how to shape bonsai. One of his usual activities.”
It made her smile a little, but she wasn’t ashamed to be naked with them. If Ben wanted to strip her naked on St. Charles, tie her to a trolley stop sign and sit on a nearby bench to read his paper and enjoy the view, that wouldn’t bother her. She was his. Because of the common elements that bound her to these women, particularly in this moment, she felt no more self-consciousness with them than she did with him. It might seem twisted to the rest of the world, but that was okay. It made sense to her.
Cass’ fingers whispered over the cane marks. “Okay, some ice for these areas should be good enough. I give him credit. He never breaks the skin.”
“Just every blood vessel beneath it,” Dana chuckled. “I remember.” She paused, as if realizing now might not be a good time to remind Marcie of that, but in answer, Marcie laced her fingers with the black woman’s, laying her head on her knuckles. It was different with Dana. She couldn’t really explain that either, but when you belonged to one of the Knights, in a peripheral way you belonged to all of them. Max’s words came back to her.
You’re one of theirs.
Dana stroked her hair, leaned down and kissed her temple, a soft nuzzle. “It wasn’t all Ben,” Marcie mumbled, wistfully passing her fingers over the St. Christopher’s medal, briefly hooking in the D-ring when Dana made a soft noise of sympathy. “Master L and Frank did the first part.”
Now there was a full stop. Cass squatted where Marcie could see her face. “What?”
“He wouldn’t take me to the club, so I went on my own. To Surreal. I did go to Baton Rouge to get info for Pickard, that wasn’t a lie. I just couldn’t tell you the rest.” It was important to let her sister know that, see Cass acknowledge it with a nod. “Master L and Frank invited me to play with them. They were going to work me over on top of my clothes, which was fine at first, but they were really good at it. Ben was at the bar with this…woman. I didn’t know he was going to be there, but when I saw he was, and he was with her…I just wanted it all to go away. Anyhow, Master L and Frank did a good job. None of them broke anything.”
“I wouldn’t
