Page 60 of Deprivation

Nick Barnes

Nick: I’m sorry. Please forgive me.

I’ve made peace with distancing myself from him. There’ll be no interaction unless required in order to do my job. I know I could never hook up with Dr. Lee. That isn’t me, no matter how much I want to rub it in Nick’s face. Well, and an orgasm delivered by another human being would be nice. But I’ve lived this long without one…

But that damn text. It pulls at my heart a little. But this is how they get to me. Playing on my emotions. Look at Gabe. I’m definitely not going back there. I simply can’t fight this push and pull I feel, my heart being dragged between loathing and lust. There’ll be no walking away from this unscathed if I enter into something with Nick Barnes willingly, and I’ve already been through enough.

Placing my EarPods, I can feel sleep calling my name. God, why hadn’t I tried this pill earlier? My mood calls for Disturbed.Ah, “The Sickness.” This should ‘rock’ me to sleep. Ha, I crack myself up.

* * *

I’m up and driving again. Where did I have to go this late? Normally, those pills work much better. It’s dark. I look around as I travel down the highway and see lights illuminating my path. There aren’t many cars out tonight. Pulling into my destination, I park close to the building and stumble along the cracked uneven pavement to the front door. As I enter, ridiculously loud music crashes into me, knocking me off center momentarily. Trying to get my bearings, I allow my pupils time to adjust to the dimly lit club.

I meander about, noticing a stage before me.That looks familiar. Not interested in a drink, I walk away from the bar and toward a dark corner of the club to the right of the stage. There are no patrons here, so I inspect the tables for clues. Reaching down, I find a matchbook.“Crystal Peaks, on stage,”it reads.Holy crap, I laugh. She still works here? The words have barely escaped me before said blonde approaches. She’s wearing a skimpy outfit which showcasesDaddy’s tits. I chuckle to myself, thinking she wouldn’t appreciate my jab at her expensive boob job. Unexpectedly, she grabs my hand and drags me along behind her.Heck, could she read my mind? Is she going to start a cat fight and wants to take me out back to do the deed?

Once we’re through another door, I watch as she starts stripping my clothes from me. This feels vaguely familiar. I’m handed a corset similar to one I was given previously, but this one isn’t nearly as small and appears to Velcro in the front.Hmm, that’s clever. While I’m trying to maneuver this artful leather creation around my torso and keep the girls all tucked in, I notice Crystal, is giving me another tiny thong.Really? What is the point in these? I try to step lively so I don’t incur another slap as I did from the dominatrix who dressed me last. This time, I’m provided tall black boots which Crystal quickly zips up over my knees. Gazing down at my outfit, I think,Sure, why the hell not?

Crystal suddenly thrusts me into a chair, and I land with a thud. “Hey!” I cry out. Before I can confront her on her manners, she begins brushing my hair, trailing it down my chest. She’s now directly in my face, applying scarlet red lipstick, blush, eye liner and mascara. “Ah, I misjudged you. You are pretty nice.”You and your big, fake boobs.

Yanking on my arm like she’s trying to pull it out of the socket, I’m catapulted from the chair. “Don’t do that,” I plead. “If you hurt my shoulder, they might call Nick,” I whisper shout.I don’t think I can handle seeing him in this getup.

I’m pushed up a familiar, narrow staircase toward flashing lights and loud music. Swiftly, the music changes, and I hear the opening cords to “Stupify,” Disturbed apparently still playing. As I take my spot on the catwalk, I recall the power I felt when I was cracking my whip the last time.I wish Crystal had the foresight to give me a prop.I don’t see the ex-boyfriend club members from my prior stage dance. Instead, I walk to the beat and try to use my body to express myself. No different than when the Dirty Librarian comes to play, I laugh, certain the guys have no idea I’ve heard their comments.

I shimmy down the stage, swaying my hips, giving in to the lyrics and the angry musical cords. When I dance, something takes over, and I lose myself to the song. I don’t intentionally move provocatively. It’s just how my body wants to express itself. Quite honestly, I didn’t know I was seen that way until I overheard my friends’ conversations. But I refuse to let it change me. It’s my one true indulgence. And if I’m going to dance suggestively, wouldn’t this be the place to do it?

Continuing to slink across the stage, I wiggle my hips and throw my arms overhead. As I feel the chorus build to a high point in the song, I lose control. I’m admittedly feeding off of this crowd. An overhead light spins past where I’m standing, but otherwise the club is pretty dark. This provides some comfort, as I give in to reckless behavior and rip my corset open, leaving me standing in only this tiny thong and black knee-high stiletto boots. A haze takes over my vision,or is it my mind?Looking out at the crowd, they’re all on their feet, whooping and hollering. I’ve apparently made it rain, as money cascades all around me. Self-consciousness spreads over me like a quilt, one apparently crafted in the style of “The Emperor’s New Clothes.” I wrap my arms around my breasts and gaze at the revelers, stopping when I see someone I know…Is that Mark?

* * *

Awakening I stare up toward my ceiling. Whew, that dream was a doozy. I thought my first stage performance was something, but at least I kept my clothes on for that gig. Shaking my head at my ludicrous dreams, my vision becomes more focused and I jolt upright in horror. I’m wearing tall black stiletto boots and a tiny black thong, neither of which have ever seen the light of day in this house before. My head starts to spin.What the hell is happening to me?

Chapter Twenty-Six

Present Day

Nick

Getting home late from work, I hustle to get in a quick shower before I’m supposed to meet my soccer buddies. My teammate Rick has returned from his destination wedding and invited everyone out to The Sports Page. I could use a drink and some good company.

These past few weeks have been a real bear. I managed to dry hump a girl at work. Then alienated myself from an entire medical department because I scolded said girl like a dog who peed on the carpet. The grand finale, having my nose rubbed in it when she threatened to hook up with Sebastian. That’s quite an accomplishment. I always was an overachiever.

As I towel off and gather clothes for the evening, I think back on Kat’s statement. “I’d prefer naughty. And you know what? I think I know just where I can find it.”Has she made good on her threat? Is that why she’s ignoring my text? If she hooked up with him, had he dumped her yet? Sebastian never slept with the same girl twice.

Shaking off the thought, I continue to dress and make for the door.There’s no sense creating more torture than you’re already dealing with. Face it, you’ve screwed the pooch on this one. Time to move on.You don’t want anyone long term, anyway, remember.

* * *

Walking into the small familiar bar, I instantly see several of my teammates huddled together. As I approach, I notice each has a date.Are they all married?Well, this may be an early evening. Seeing Rick, I walk over to greet him.

“Hey, man. Congratulations. Thanks for including me tonight,” I say, clapping him on the back. I wait for introductions rather than presume the blonde he’s holding is his wife. As I recall, I tend to make a complete mockery of the assumptions I make.

“Hi, Nick. This is Sara. Sara, this is Nick. He’s quite the player,” he introduces.

She gives me an inquisitive look, and I wonder if she’s impressed I have soccer skills at my age or thinks, since I’ve arrived alone,I’mthat kind of player?

Wanting to clear the air, I’m about to clarify when Rick states “Hey, keep my girl safe. I’m hitting the head.” Well, hopefully this cleared up the player question.He wouldn’t ask a man whore to watch his girl, right?

“So how was Aruba?” I ask.

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