* * *
Reiko and Erica returned with wet leaves in their hair and smudges of mud on their jackets and trousers. Tony just shook his head at them.
“So who won?” Talan asked.
“Won?” asked Reiko, blinking innocently. “Why, whatever do you mean?”
Talan looked the slight woman up and down, “It looks like you two got into a wrestling match with a pile of leaves.”
“The leaves on the ground covered the end of the dock,” Erica explained. “I hadn't expected it to start so far inland, so I caught my foot on the end of it and tripped. Reiko laughed at me . . . so when she came over to help me up, I pulled her down in the leaf pile, too.”
“And she rubbed leaves in my hair!” Reiko mock-pouted.
“I'm sure you richly deserved it,” Tony said, kissing his wife on her forehead. “But you're getting mud all over the place. Go on and take your shoes off, put your jacket away, and come eat lunch.”
Erica followed Reiko without being told. She hung her coat and slipped off her shoes, then blinked as the other woman skimmed out of her pants as well and hung them on the coat tree.
“What?” Reiko asked, her loose white shirt not quite long enough to cover the shocking turquoise of her panties. “They were wet and muddy!”
“Well, mine are, too,” pointed out Erica.
Reiko shrugged, “So take them off. It's not like you have nothing on under them, is it?”
“But . . . protection?” Erica hesitated.
Reiko laughed, “I seriously doubt that whatever Tony has made for lunch is going to leap off the table and gnaw on your legs.”
Erica blushed, but took off her jeans, thankful that the black yoga pants beneath were still dry. Sock-footed, she padded back to the dining area after the much less self-conscious Reiko, shying wide of the Dolphin II that was still set up in the living room. She knew it was silly to feel awkward when she was still fully covered, but Erica didn't really feel comfortable again until her legs were safely hidden under the table and everybody was involved in eating vegetable sandwiches and potato salad. As at Scrabble the night before, Erica sat with Reiko and Tony to either side of her, Talan separated from her by the full width of the table.
“Have you thought about what I proposed?” Talan asked, having finished his first pita pocket and reached for a second.
Erica swallowed her bite of potato salad convulsively.
“She certainly talked about it enough!” Reiko interjected.
Talan kept his eyes locked on Erica. “Have you come to any decision?”
Erica examined her plate. She still had most of a scoop of potato salad and half of a pita pocket covering the centre of the plate, only a few wisps of microgreens and a smear of mayonnaise marring the painted border. The silence stretched until she finally replied, “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” asked Talan.
“Yeah, you're right. It should work.” Erica pushed the stray clover sprouts back toward her sandwich. “It's scary to think about, but . . . I did survive the first time. But it's scary.”
Talan kept his eyes on Erica, but his gaze gentle. “I know it's scary. It is safe to trust me.”
“I know,” Erica said. quietly
“I know you know,” Talan confirmed, “but that still doesn't make it easy to do. I understand.” He shifted his gaze back to his own food, no longer holding her pinned under his eyes. “Eat your sandwich.”
Erica nibbled at her food, eventually cleaning her plate, but it didn't seem to have much flavour any more. She deposited her plate in the sink without taking another sandwich. When she looked up on her way out of the kitchen, Erica again found herself caught in Talan's gaze.
“I won't hurt you,” Talan said evenly.
“I know,” Erica replied, actually meeting his eyes briefly before looking away again.
“You took off the above-the-knee cuffs,” Talan observed.
“Yes; I had to, to get my pants off,” Erica said. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, I'm not going to punish you,” Talan smiled gently. “But would you be okay with putting them back on?”
Erica ummed, “Sure?”
“Okay,” Talan said, “I'm going to walk to the sofa and sit down on one end. I would like you to go get the cuffs and put them back on . . . sitting on the same sofa I am.”
Erica moved tensely through the living room to the entrance hall where she had left the cuffs and when she returned, she perched on the very end of the sofa as far away from Talan as she could. He had expected that, and he said nothing as she fumbled to re-attach the cuffs just above her knees.
“Are you doing okay?” Talan asked softly as she sat rigid on the end of the sofa. Erica nodded without relaxing. “I won't hurt you.”
“I know. I'm sorry,” Erica said. “I know I'm being dumb, and I'm trying to fight it, but . . .”
Talan nodded, “But fighting yourself is hard. I know.” He was rewarded with a fractional relaxation on her part, perhaps too subtle for her to notice, herself. “And you haven't been deliberately tickled in ages, so you're not sure how it will feel?” He passed her a pair of panic snaps connected at the fixed eyes with a sturdy quick link.
“That too,” Erica agreed, examining the arrangement. The quick link was actually intended to join two lengths of chain; it looked like an oval chain link, except that on one side was a gate that could be screwed down to open it and back up to secure it.
“How about you just put your feet on my lap, to begin?” Talan suggested. “We can delay getting you fully immobilized until you at least see if you want to deal with the sensations?”
Erica obeyed slowly, still turning the doubled panic snap over in her fingers. Talan gently moved her feet together on his lap and used an identically connected pair of panic snaps to attach one ankle to the other.
“Tug on this,” he requested, gripping the metal between the cuffs with his left hand rather than holding her ankles. “Make sure it's comfortable.”
Erica shifted a little so her back was supported by the arm of the chair and pulled against the cuffs. “Feels okay,” she said.
“Good girl,” Talan smiled approvingly. She had actually managed to volunteer the information, which was distinct progress for her. “Are you ready?”
Erica tried a wobbly grin. “I hope so,” she said.
Still smiling, Talan used the index finger of his right hand to trace the centre of her left sole from heel to toes and back, slowly moving over the cotton sock. Erica squirmed a little, but she didn't actually start giggling until he added another finger on the wiggly path back down to her heel.
“Still doing okay?” Talan asked, and she nodded. He smiled gently, using all four fingers to spider-dance over the bottom of one foot and then the other until she was laughing and pulling at he cuffs hard enough that it was a challenge to hold on.
“Enough. Breathe,” Talan instructed. “How did that feel?”
“It tickled!” Erica exclaimed, still giggling a little as the sensations faded.
“It was meant to,” Talan smiled, releasing both of the panic snaps from her cuffs. “How scary was it?”
Erica pulled her feet back, but wasn't hunched into the minimum possible space on her end of the sofa any more. “It actually wasn't,” she said thoughtfully.
“Ready to move back to the Dolphin?” Talan suggested.
Erica nodded and stood up, moving deliberately over to the massage chair and kneeling on it. Talan followed, quiet hands re-securing the panic snaps at ankles and knees.
“Are you comfortable with removing the sweater?” Talan asked gently.
“I guess,” Erica said, starting to fumble with the cuffs above her elbows. Talan took them from her as she removed them, laying the cuffs on the arm rest of the massage chair. Erica pulled the bulky sweater over her head and passed that to Talan, too. He tossed the sweater onto the sofa and handed her back one of the cuffs.
“Do you need help with those?” he offered, watching her try to line up the tongue of the buckle with the appropriate hole. He watched her tense up again, but she nodded. Very gently, he touched her right arm, supporting the strap of the cuff against the arm as he threaded the buckle. “It's okay. I won't hurt you.”
Erica nodded, shivering a little, as he moved to the other arm and repeated the process there. “I know. Thank you for not being angry that I'm afraid anyway?”
“Never,” Talan assured her. “Now, I do want to do something a little more restrictive with your arms this time.” He waited for her nod. “Just rest your arms on this pad, as last time, but this time I am going to attach each wrist to the opposite elbow, okay?”
“Like this?” Erica asked, leaning forward to obey. As Talan had intended, the position allowed no opportunity for her to pull down her arms to protect her sides or underarms.
“Perfect,” Talan told her, using his improvised double-ended panic snaps to secure her forearms in their parallel arrangement and then attaching each wrist-elbow pair to one of the snaps he had used on her wrists before. “You doing okay?”
Erica wiggled, a fair bit of motion still possible through her hips and torso, but with her limbs effectively trapped. “Yup,” she confirmed.
Talan placed a hand gently in the centre of Erica's back, a reassuring gesture that caused her muscles to tense up all across her shoulders. “You remember how to get out of this, if you need to?” Erica nodded tensely, but he insisted, “Tell me. What would you say to get loose?”
“Stop,” Erica said nervously. “Let me go. Or anything like that.”
“That's right” Talan told her, squeezing her shoulder gently. “Let me know when you're ready to start.”
Erica took a deep breath and said, “Okay.” When that wasn't enough, she let it out again with a sigh.
“You're safe,” Talan told her, his hand steady on the back of her shoulder. “You're safe, and I won't hurt you. In order to not hurt you, I need to be sure you know the way out, and I need to wait for an unambiguous yes before proceeding.”
Erica nodded a little, thinking about the words. “Yes,” she said. “Go ahead.”
Talan started slowly, one hand on each shoulder, beginning with a massage like touch until the muscles in the shoulders relaxed a little. As he had in the morning, he turned his hands so that his fingers faced out toward the ribcage, pulling his hands lightly down her back. This time, when she squirmed, he just ran his hands back up the sides of her back, wiggling the fingers individually.
Talan kept the tickling light and gentle to begin, carefully calibrated to keep her squirming and maybe giggling a little. It was still possible that Erica would panic again when she hit the ends of her available motion, and if that were to occur he wanted it to happen when he was still in a position to talk her down from it. Erica's t-shirt was light-weight enough that he was sure she could feel each individual stroke through it. Slowly, Talan ramped up the intensity, moving more onto the woman's vulnerable sides.
Erica jumped as the tickling moved to her sides. Although the swimsuit added another layer of protection to the rest of her torso, her sides were apparently much more ticklish than her back. Squirming and giggling turned to laughing, and she could feel the wide bands of the cuffs preventing her from pulling further away. By the time Talan's fingers moved into her underarms, she was pulling against the arm restraints as hard as she could, but neither cable ties nor cuffs gave her any leeway. She could move from side to side a little bit, but with Talan behind her and one hand in each underarm, pulling away from one set of fingers only brought her closer to the other set . . . and even that insufficiently firmly that it would stop the maddeningly ambiguous sensations. It didn't hurt, but her body insisted on trying to get away. It wasn't pleasure, but her labia were sliding over one another as if her Bartholin's glands disagreed. Unable to analyse the feelings, unable to avoid them, all she could do was laugh.
Talan noted the point at which the cable ties went taut, watched the shift as Erica gave up trying to control her reactions, and smiled. He moved his hands back out of her underarms, tickling her ribs and below on her flanks, but carefully staying above the waistband of her tight black pants. He leaned forward to tickle her belly, his chest brushing against her back, and was dismayed to feel all the muscles in her back knot up. Talan felt his own stomach clench in sympathy. He eased the tickling enough that Erica could speak without difficulty, but didn't draw back entirely.
“Say it,” Talan urged, close behind her and almost directly in her ear. Erica whimpered softly, trying to pull in on herself, but the same bondage that had kept her vulnerable to his fingers prevented her from making herself smaller. “You know the words,” Talan continued with quiet intensity. “You can stop this. Say it.”
“Stop,” Erica said, little more than a whisper.
Immediately, Talan stopped moving, his fingers still over her t-shirt, still close behind her. He could see her struggling for words, but he mastered an urge to try to help her find them. Difficult though it was to watch, she needed to find the strength to say it, and desperately needed to learn that her words could keep her safe.
“No,” Erica tried. “I'm sorry. I'm scared and I shouldn't be and I'm sorry.”
“You're safe,” Talan told her. “I know you're scared. I'm not going to hurt you. What do you need from me?”
Erica shivered again. “I'm sorry. I don't know. You're too close. I'm sorry.”
Gently, Talan moved back, removing his fingers from her shirt and walking deliberately around to crouch in front of the massage chair. “Good girl,” he told her gently, using the words to reassure as well as inform her of his location. “You're safe. Nobody is going to hurt you.”
Erica took a shaky breath, then another. Talan watched her bring herself back under control, silently waiting, out of reach but close enough to respond quickly if needed.
“I'm sorry,” Erica repeated more strongly, an actual apology this time rather than a way to fend off harm.
“It's okay,” Talan told her sincerely. “And, Erica? You did it.”
Erica lifted her head from the face pillow to look at him. “I what?” she asked.
“You were scared, but you used words to tell me, and to communicate what you needed to change. That wasn't easy for you, but you did it.” Talan smiled gently, “You're stronger than you think.”
Erica shifted, uncomfortable with the praise but still bound and unable to avoid it. “Will you let me go now, please?” she asked.
“Of course,” Talan said, moving in without undue haste. He first released the wrists from the elbows to which they were attached, then released the arms from the massage chair itself. “May I touch you?” he asked and, when Erica nodded, gently massaged her arms. “I'm moving on to your legs now,” he warned her before releasing the panic snaps at her knees and then her ankles, massaging the calf muscles gently before rocking back and offering his partner a hand up.
Erica struggled to her feet without touching the proffered hand, then stood beside the device looking a little lost. She jumped slightly when Talan repeated that she was safe, but let him guide her to sit on the sofa.
Talan picked up the blanket he had left beside the sofa earlier, wrapping it around Erica. She clutched it to herself.
Reiko and Erica returned with wet leaves in their hair and smudges of mud on their jackets and trousers. Tony just shook his head at them.
“So who won?” Talan asked.
“Won?” asked Reiko, blinking innocently. “Why, whatever do you mean?”
Talan looked the slight woman up and down, “It looks like you two got into a wrestling match with a pile of leaves.”
“The leaves on the ground covered the end of the dock,” Erica explained. “I hadn't expected it to start so far inland, so I caught my foot on the end of it and tripped. Reiko laughed at me . . . so when she came over to help me up, I pulled her down in the leaf pile, too.”
“And she rubbed leaves in my hair!” Reiko mock-pouted.
“I'm sure you richly deserved it,” Tony said, kissing his wife on her forehead. “But you're getting mud all over the place. Go on and take your shoes off, put your jacket away, and come eat lunch.”
Erica followed Reiko without being told. She hung her coat and slipped off her shoes, then blinked as the other woman skimmed out of her pants as well and hung them on the coat tree.
“What?” Reiko asked, her loose white shirt not quite long enough to cover the shocking turquoise of her panties. “They were wet and muddy!”
“Well, mine are, too,” pointed out Erica.
Reiko shrugged, “So take them off. It's not like you have nothing on under them, is it?”
“But . . . protection?” Erica hesitated.
Reiko laughed, “I seriously doubt that whatever Tony has made for lunch is going to leap off the table and gnaw on your legs.”
Erica blushed, but took off her jeans, thankful that the black yoga pants beneath were still dry. Sock-footed, she padded back to the dining area after the much less self-conscious Reiko, shying wide of the Dolphin II that was still set up in the living room. She knew it was silly to feel awkward when she was still fully covered, but Erica didn't really feel comfortable again until her legs were safely hidden under the table and everybody was involved in eating vegetable sandwiches and potato salad. As at Scrabble the night before, Erica sat with Reiko and Tony to either side of her, Talan separated from her by the full width of the table.
“Have you thought about what I proposed?” Talan asked, having finished his first pita pocket and reached for a second.
Erica swallowed her bite of potato salad convulsively.
“She certainly talked about it enough!” Reiko interjected.
Talan kept his eyes locked on Erica. “Have you come to any decision?”
Erica examined her plate. She still had most of a scoop of potato salad and half of a pita pocket covering the centre of the plate, only a few wisps of microgreens and a smear of mayonnaise marring the painted border. The silence stretched until she finally replied, “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” asked Talan.
“Yeah, you're right. It should work.” Erica pushed the stray clover sprouts back toward her sandwich. “It's scary to think about, but . . . I did survive the first time. But it's scary.”
Talan kept his eyes on Erica, but his gaze gentle. “I know it's scary. It is safe to trust me.”
“I know,” Erica said. quietly
“I know you know,” Talan confirmed, “but that still doesn't make it easy to do. I understand.” He shifted his gaze back to his own food, no longer holding her pinned under his eyes. “Eat your sandwich.”
Erica nibbled at her food, eventually cleaning her plate, but it didn't seem to have much flavour any more. She deposited her plate in the sink without taking another sandwich. When she looked up on her way out of the kitchen, Erica again found herself caught in Talan's gaze.
“I won't hurt you,” Talan said evenly.
“I know,” Erica replied, actually meeting his eyes briefly before looking away again.
“You took off the above-the-knee cuffs,” Talan observed.
“Yes; I had to, to get my pants off,” Erica said. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, I'm not going to punish you,” Talan smiled gently. “But would you be okay with putting them back on?”
Erica ummed, “Sure?”
“Okay,” Talan said, “I'm going to walk to the sofa and sit down on one end. I would like you to go get the cuffs and put them back on . . . sitting on the same sofa I am.”
Erica moved tensely through the living room to the entrance hall where she had left the cuffs and when she returned, she perched on the very end of the sofa as far away from Talan as she could. He had expected that, and he said nothing as she fumbled to re-attach the cuffs just above her knees.
“Are you doing okay?” Talan asked softly as she sat rigid on the end of the sofa. Erica nodded without relaxing. “I won't hurt you.”
“I know. I'm sorry,” Erica said. “I know I'm being dumb, and I'm trying to fight it, but . . .”
Talan nodded, “But fighting yourself is hard. I know.” He was rewarded with a fractional relaxation on her part, perhaps too subtle for her to notice, herself. “And you haven't been deliberately tickled in ages, so you're not sure how it will feel?” He passed her a pair of panic snaps connected at the fixed eyes with a sturdy quick link.
“That too,” Erica agreed, examining the arrangement. The quick link was actually intended to join two lengths of chain; it looked like an oval chain link, except that on one side was a gate that could be screwed down to open it and back up to secure it.
“How about you just put your feet on my lap, to begin?” Talan suggested. “We can delay getting you fully immobilized until you at least see if you want to deal with the sensations?”
Erica obeyed slowly, still turning the doubled panic snap over in her fingers. Talan gently moved her feet together on his lap and used an identically connected pair of panic snaps to attach one ankle to the other.
“Tug on this,” he requested, gripping the metal between the cuffs with his left hand rather than holding her ankles. “Make sure it's comfortable.”
Erica shifted a little so her back was supported by the arm of the chair and pulled against the cuffs. “Feels okay,” she said.
“Good girl,” Talan smiled approvingly. She had actually managed to volunteer the information, which was distinct progress for her. “Are you ready?”
Erica tried a wobbly grin. “I hope so,” she said.
Still smiling, Talan used the index finger of his right hand to trace the centre of her left sole from heel to toes and back, slowly moving over the cotton sock. Erica squirmed a little, but she didn't actually start giggling until he added another finger on the wiggly path back down to her heel.
“Still doing okay?” Talan asked, and she nodded. He smiled gently, using all four fingers to spider-dance over the bottom of one foot and then the other until she was laughing and pulling at he cuffs hard enough that it was a challenge to hold on.
“Enough. Breathe,” Talan instructed. “How did that feel?”
“It tickled!” Erica exclaimed, still giggling a little as the sensations faded.
“It was meant to,” Talan smiled, releasing both of the panic snaps from her cuffs. “How scary was it?”
Erica pulled her feet back, but wasn't hunched into the minimum possible space on her end of the sofa any more. “It actually wasn't,” she said thoughtfully.
“Ready to move back to the Dolphin?” Talan suggested.
Erica nodded and stood up, moving deliberately over to the massage chair and kneeling on it. Talan followed, quiet hands re-securing the panic snaps at ankles and knees.
“Are you comfortable with removing the sweater?” Talan asked gently.
“I guess,” Erica said, starting to fumble with the cuffs above her elbows. Talan took them from her as she removed them, laying the cuffs on the arm rest of the massage chair. Erica pulled the bulky sweater over her head and passed that to Talan, too. He tossed the sweater onto the sofa and handed her back one of the cuffs.
“Do you need help with those?” he offered, watching her try to line up the tongue of the buckle with the appropriate hole. He watched her tense up again, but she nodded. Very gently, he touched her right arm, supporting the strap of the cuff against the arm as he threaded the buckle. “It's okay. I won't hurt you.”
Erica nodded, shivering a little, as he moved to the other arm and repeated the process there. “I know. Thank you for not being angry that I'm afraid anyway?”
“Never,” Talan assured her. “Now, I do want to do something a little more restrictive with your arms this time.” He waited for her nod. “Just rest your arms on this pad, as last time, but this time I am going to attach each wrist to the opposite elbow, okay?”
“Like this?” Erica asked, leaning forward to obey. As Talan had intended, the position allowed no opportunity for her to pull down her arms to protect her sides or underarms.
“Perfect,” Talan told her, using his improvised double-ended panic snaps to secure her forearms in their parallel arrangement and then attaching each wrist-elbow pair to one of the snaps he had used on her wrists before. “You doing okay?”
Erica wiggled, a fair bit of motion still possible through her hips and torso, but with her limbs effectively trapped. “Yup,” she confirmed.
Talan placed a hand gently in the centre of Erica's back, a reassuring gesture that caused her muscles to tense up all across her shoulders. “You remember how to get out of this, if you need to?” Erica nodded tensely, but he insisted, “Tell me. What would you say to get loose?”
“Stop,” Erica said nervously. “Let me go. Or anything like that.”
“That's right” Talan told her, squeezing her shoulder gently. “Let me know when you're ready to start.”
Erica took a deep breath and said, “Okay.” When that wasn't enough, she let it out again with a sigh.
“You're safe,” Talan told her, his hand steady on the back of her shoulder. “You're safe, and I won't hurt you. In order to not hurt you, I need to be sure you know the way out, and I need to wait for an unambiguous yes before proceeding.”
Erica nodded a little, thinking about the words. “Yes,” she said. “Go ahead.”
Talan started slowly, one hand on each shoulder, beginning with a massage like touch until the muscles in the shoulders relaxed a little. As he had in the morning, he turned his hands so that his fingers faced out toward the ribcage, pulling his hands lightly down her back. This time, when she squirmed, he just ran his hands back up the sides of her back, wiggling the fingers individually.
Talan kept the tickling light and gentle to begin, carefully calibrated to keep her squirming and maybe giggling a little. It was still possible that Erica would panic again when she hit the ends of her available motion, and if that were to occur he wanted it to happen when he was still in a position to talk her down from it. Erica's t-shirt was light-weight enough that he was sure she could feel each individual stroke through it. Slowly, Talan ramped up the intensity, moving more onto the woman's vulnerable sides.
Erica jumped as the tickling moved to her sides. Although the swimsuit added another layer of protection to the rest of her torso, her sides were apparently much more ticklish than her back. Squirming and giggling turned to laughing, and she could feel the wide bands of the cuffs preventing her from pulling further away. By the time Talan's fingers moved into her underarms, she was pulling against the arm restraints as hard as she could, but neither cable ties nor cuffs gave her any leeway. She could move from side to side a little bit, but with Talan behind her and one hand in each underarm, pulling away from one set of fingers only brought her closer to the other set . . . and even that insufficiently firmly that it would stop the maddeningly ambiguous sensations. It didn't hurt, but her body insisted on trying to get away. It wasn't pleasure, but her labia were sliding over one another as if her Bartholin's glands disagreed. Unable to analyse the feelings, unable to avoid them, all she could do was laugh.
Talan noted the point at which the cable ties went taut, watched the shift as Erica gave up trying to control her reactions, and smiled. He moved his hands back out of her underarms, tickling her ribs and below on her flanks, but carefully staying above the waistband of her tight black pants. He leaned forward to tickle her belly, his chest brushing against her back, and was dismayed to feel all the muscles in her back knot up. Talan felt his own stomach clench in sympathy. He eased the tickling enough that Erica could speak without difficulty, but didn't draw back entirely.
“Say it,” Talan urged, close behind her and almost directly in her ear. Erica whimpered softly, trying to pull in on herself, but the same bondage that had kept her vulnerable to his fingers prevented her from making herself smaller. “You know the words,” Talan continued with quiet intensity. “You can stop this. Say it.”
“Stop,” Erica said, little more than a whisper.
Immediately, Talan stopped moving, his fingers still over her t-shirt, still close behind her. He could see her struggling for words, but he mastered an urge to try to help her find them. Difficult though it was to watch, she needed to find the strength to say it, and desperately needed to learn that her words could keep her safe.
“No,” Erica tried. “I'm sorry. I'm scared and I shouldn't be and I'm sorry.”
“You're safe,” Talan told her. “I know you're scared. I'm not going to hurt you. What do you need from me?”
Erica shivered again. “I'm sorry. I don't know. You're too close. I'm sorry.”
Gently, Talan moved back, removing his fingers from her shirt and walking deliberately around to crouch in front of the massage chair. “Good girl,” he told her gently, using the words to reassure as well as inform her of his location. “You're safe. Nobody is going to hurt you.”
Erica took a shaky breath, then another. Talan watched her bring herself back under control, silently waiting, out of reach but close enough to respond quickly if needed.
“I'm sorry,” Erica repeated more strongly, an actual apology this time rather than a way to fend off harm.
“It's okay,” Talan told her sincerely. “And, Erica? You did it.”
Erica lifted her head from the face pillow to look at him. “I what?” she asked.
“You were scared, but you used words to tell me, and to communicate what you needed to change. That wasn't easy for you, but you did it.” Talan smiled gently, “You're stronger than you think.”
Erica shifted, uncomfortable with the praise but still bound and unable to avoid it. “Will you let me go now, please?” she asked.
“Of course,” Talan said, moving in without undue haste. He first released the wrists from the elbows to which they were attached, then released the arms from the massage chair itself. “May I touch you?” he asked and, when Erica nodded, gently massaged her arms. “I'm moving on to your legs now,” he warned her before releasing the panic snaps at her knees and then her ankles, massaging the calf muscles gently before rocking back and offering his partner a hand up.
Erica struggled to her feet without touching the proffered hand, then stood beside the device looking a little lost. She jumped slightly when Talan repeated that she was safe, but let him guide her to sit on the sofa.
Talan picked up the blanket he had left beside the sofa earlier, wrapping it around Erica. She clutched it to herself.
