If the burden of my mind gets to be too much, then perhaps I’ll find a different shrink, someone far from here, to help me. I want nothing to do with Shrinky Dink or Louis in that way. They both have agendas. There’s no way either of them wants to help me because they’re philanthropists. No. There’s an angle here. At least with a stranger that’s in no way affiliated with me, I can be safe knowing they’re in it because they actually give a damn about my mental health.
Hell, maybe I’ll just find a priest. They’re just as bound to privacy as a therapist but without the threat of being institutionalized. I could pour out my sins, purging myself to this man of the cloth, traumatizing him in the bargain. It’s a perfect plan, one I don’t mind enacting once tonight is over.
Leaning back, I take a deep breath, preparing for the agony I know is about to come. My response may be dramatic, it may be a bit over the top, but then, this whole damned initiation is over the top. It will make me fit right in. Looking out to the crowd, I close my eyes, lean back against the wood, and shout, “Freedom.”
Shrinky Dink shakes his head and drops the rope before coming in close. “You think I don’t see past this humorous charade? You think I don’t see the pain you hold? You may laugh now, but know that my time here with you isn’t the most agonizing thing you can endure. Tonight, you’ll get a taste of the Loftry Dominants you scoff at so freely, thinking we’re soft and unable to perform. But if you do anything to fuck with us, we descend on you en masse. You will not be able to escape.”
Pulling back, he studies me. My brain clicks about as I force myself to recall any and all conversations. Have I said my derision out loud? Or is he just picking up on my body language? Either way, I need to be more careful. I can’t let things like this slip. I can’t let him think that he knows me when in actuality, he doesn’t.
“No, Luke,” he continues, a smirk dancing at the corners of his mouth. “I’m not psychic, just intuitive. Your body will always give you away. You may think you’re a grown man, able to purport yourself as an adult, but you’re not. You’re still a child, throwing tantrums and having fits. You think you’re the first person to be abused and live with that chip on their shoulder? You’re not nearly that special.”
He turns to leave, and for a brief moment, my soul cries out to him, wanting him to tell me that I’m not as broken as I feared. “What do you know about it?”
Shrinky Dink turns and gives me a sympathetic smile. “I’ve been in this business a long time. You see things, hear things. Why do you think I stand here as a Dominant of The Society? Why do you think I’m the one that assesses the people we bring in? I’ve stared at the face of evil. I’ve dined with the devil himself. I know what makes them tick. I know what makes you tick.”
Once more, he turns back around, effectively ending the conversation. I want to scream, to lash out, force him to face me. If he’s seen worse than me, then the least he could do is actually give me the respect of treating me as an equal.
As he steps off the dais, I feel the ropes moving one last time. Just a whisper of movement, a hint of warning before pain rocks through my body, plunging me into blessed darkness.