Page 9 of Blinded
“I don’t torment people. My job is to help with recovery of physical strength.”
“More like physical torture,” he said under his breath. “I'm not sure why you bothered to get your doctorate in physical therapy," he dabbed some of the sweat from his sternum and added, "when you could have been a real doctor."
Her posture straightened and her ponytail swept angrily as she thumped the next weight in place with a loud clang. When she turned around her eyes still sparkled with anger, but her tone was even as she replied, “You can't be a PT without the doctorate, so it’s not like I’m the only doctor with this job.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Even if you don’t think so. I am a real doctor and so are my colleagues.” She placed her hands on her hips, her eyes blazing with anger. “And so are pharmacists; we don't all want to be butchers!”
“You wound me!” He clutched his chest as if he were mortally injured. “Don’t you know nothing heals like cold blue steel?”
“Whatever.” She turned away from him to roll out a yoga mat and muttered – barely loud enough for him to hear. “I just hope I never have to see you after we’re finished here.” She cleared her throat and addressed him in her professional tone and with an impassive face. “Let’s concentrate on your cool down and stretching and then your physical therapy will be officially done, Dr. Lewis.”
GT practically strutted out of Dr. Owens’ office on Friday afternoon. Buck had cleared him to return to work and other activity. Instead of driving home, he steered toward Club Indigo. It was time to celebrate. His accident had shown him life was too short to spend it all at work. He loved his job, the challenge of complicated surgeries, and the satisfaction it gave him to mend broken bodies, but he had neglected his other interests.
He inhaled deeply as he entered the club. The scent of leather hit him first followed by the lingering odors of perfumes and sex. He went over to the bar to get his bearings. Dressed in black slacks and a dark gray silk shirt, he nursed a drink and tried to get a feeling for the club and its members. The club didn’t have drinking limits, but playing while under the influence of alcohol was prohibited, and he agreed. No way a person could play safe, sane and consensually when inebriated. Most members were sensible enough not to drink at all before play, and the bar was quiet this time of night.
GT watched with mild interest as a big man tied his sub. He couldn’t fault the man’s technique, but the slow and hesitant way he moved showed he was still learning the ropes. GT grinned at his pun and took another sip of his rum and coke. It was nice to see another Bakushi or Rope Top at the club, even if he wasn’t a Nawashi, as the Japanese called a Master in Kinbaku. To be honest, GT was more intrigued by the beautiful and pliant submissive. She’d make a lovely jujun'na, as the Japanese Bakushi called their submissives. Her long brown hair would contrast attractively with his hemp ropes, and it was long enough to integrate into the binding. He liked the obedience and patience of the submissive. From this angle he couldn’t see her face, but she was his type, and he could feel his cock stir at the idea of her submitting to him and his ropes. He didn’t see a connection between the two that indicated an intimate relationship.
GT’s attention was pulled from the scene as his friend, Jim, with his wife and submissive, Paula, joined him. Jim clapped him on the back at the same time Paula settled into a kneeling position on the floor.
“High protocol tonight?” GT asked. He remembered Paula as the feisty woman he’d crossed swords with after his friend sustained serious injuries in a raid on a meth house. A head injury kept Jim in a coma for days, and he had severely damaged his leg. GT had been the orthopedic surgeon in charge of Jim’s recovery, and Paula hadn’t taken too kindly to his teasing, sarcasm, and flirting. Both Jim and Paula were police detectives, and she was a strong woman. With Paula both higher in rank and older than Jim, she’d struggled with submission, but now she looked at peace in her subservient pose.
Jim caressed the top of Paula’s head. Although GT wasn’t into this kind of deference, she looked beautiful. “We’re not into high protocol, but Paula likes the peace it brings her to kneel at my feet. She’s gradually giving up more control, although we’re not 24/7 yet. I’m pretty much in charge of all aspects of her life, and it works for both of us. There’s one big exception, and that’s her work. I will never control how or when she does her job.” Jim answered, and the satisfaction on his face spoke volumes.
They chatted for a bit until Jim excused them. “Enjoy your evening, GT. It’s nice to have you at the club, and I hope we see you more often. My melda and I are going to use the equipment upstairs.” GT smiled at the elvish word for beloved. Jim had been a huge Tolkien fan in school. Apparently, some of the fantasy from Lord of the Rings had slipped into their dynamic.
GT looked at the now-empty scene area and felt a pang of disappointment. Where had the couple gone, and – more importantly – were they in a relationship or had it been casual play? He would never poach another man’s girl – that was the main reason he hadn’t tried to play with Julie – but if this one was a free agent, all bets were off. His fingers itched to bind her, and his cock thickened at the thought of controlling her. He adjusted his cock, so it was less uncomfortable.
As if summoned by his thoughts, the big man from the scene sauntered up to the bar and, with a reserved smile to GT, settled on the bar stool Jim had vacated.
Time to take the bull by the horns GT decided, and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Greg.”
“Will.” The man had a firm grip. “I think I’ve seen you before but not recently.”
GT chuckled at Will’s observational skills. It was good to see in a Top, whatever his kink was. “You’re right. Although I don’t manage to visit the club as often as I like, I’ve been a member for over a year now.”
Will inclined his head. “Eight months. Do you know Jim and Paula?” At GT’s nod Will continued, “They introduced me to the lifestyle, and I’m really enjoying BDSM and interacting with the club members. Especially bondage.”
GT grunted. “I saw your scene. How long have you been practicing Kinbaku?”
“I just recently started.”
“Who have you been training with?” GT was curious. Will’s technique wasn’t bad, but something was off. His hesitation seemed to be more than inexperience.
Will’s forehead wrinkled. “I did some workshops with Mitch, but he hasn’t taught any for a while now. I’m learning from a book and watching tutorials on the internet.” Will scrubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t aware you could – what – like take classes outside Club Indigo?”
GT grinned. “Oh yes, you can. If you truly want to learn Kinbaku, you should go to Japan and train with a real Nawashi.”
Will’s face dropped. “As if I could afford a trip to Japan for extensive training. That’s just a pipe dream for a guy like me.”
GT continued as if he hadn’t heard. “I did. I trained with Takeshi Saito.”
Will’s eyes widened, and GT’s grin broadened. “You mean you learned Kinbaku from him?” Will asked with awe in his voice. “I’ve seen some of his work on Fetlife. That man is a real artist! Too bad there isn’t anyone around here who could teach.”
GT nodded, but before he could say more, the tall, slender brunette walked past them over to a group of unattached submissives who clustered together whenever they weren’t in a scene.
“Isn’t that your sub?” GT asked Will. “Why doesn’t she join us?”
