Read The Braille Club (The Braille Club #1) Online
Authors: J. A. Kerr
THE BRAILLE CLUB
Braille Club, London, Present Day: The Braille Chair is unique and was the first of its kind to be developed. Its seat moulds to your body and the powerful machinery it requires to pulse and vibrate is stored inside. The remote control, a small touch screen tablet which rests inside the back of the chair is operated by the Patron and has numerous functions. All members are trained on how to use it, a skill some master better than others; the pulse location and intensity are often critical to the Patron’s success. The narrow padded back design was for comfort and accessibility, allowing the Patron to get close enough to work their magic.
Guy
Guy was sitting in his office. New members were a rarity now, and he’d enjoyed the last few weeks. The background checks and interviews were a pleasant change from the more mundane duties of the club. He was excited by his new sensory suit but knew it needed more finesse, as did the wand. He planned to make several modifications, knowing improvements would be essential in going forward. Grace had reported the garment’s success in both sessions scheduled this week. They always tried out their modifications on newbies; older members were used to more sophisticated equipment. He checked the club’s booking system and realised with a jolt that their special guest would be here in a few days’ time.
They would be slotted in with the best Elysian Patron. Special guests received special treatments, special equipment, and special services…
THE BRAILLE CLUB
Braille Club, London, Present Day: Once inside the inner chamber, Assignees reach up to locate the silk bag that hangs on the wall and, fumbling, they start to remove their clothes. Some place them neatly onto the shelf and hanger provided while others leave them in a heap on the floor. Hands reach inside the bag to stroke the fabric before stepping into the suit, which has been custom made to each member’s specification. It clings seductively to every part of the body, like a second skin.
Next they pull out their hood, again custom made, and hold it in their hand. The key in the locket continues to count down time, as they approach the chair in front of them. They are alarmed as the key vibrations increase threateningly, and only relax slightly as they take their seat. Momentarily catching their breath, they locate the opening and insert the key. With shaking fingers, they lift the hood and slip it on, pulse rates slowing, shoulders slumping as they relax, having met the requirements demanded of them within the time limits allowed. Their fingers search for the button and depress it. They hold their breath as the key stops vibrating. The chair glides forward through the now opened door into their chosen zone.
Marbella, 2012
Benedict
Benedict caught Siena as she collapsed; holding her awkwardly as he gently laid her on the floor in the recovery position, panicking slightly, although he was trained in first aid. He checked for a medical ID bracelet; his mother had worn one, but he didn’t like to think about that. He would have missed it if he hadn’t been looking, but there on her slender wrist was a pretty gold charm bracelet. On closer inspection, he could see the charms were medical alerts, the lipstick-shaped charm said ‘Diabetic’; the disc charm ‘Insulin Dependent.’ He felt a chill go through him; the disc had a telephone number. Benedict scrambled around looking for his mobile.
He found it and, kneeling over Siena, he punched the number on her bracelet into the phone. It rang, and then a voice said.
“Hello, Siena?”
“No,” said Benedict. “Siena has collapsed.”
“What? Who is this?”
Benedict was riled at the tone, but kept his voice even.
“I am a friend. Siena has collapsed and this number is on her bracelet. What should I do?”
“I’m her husband,” shouted the voice, even angrier.
Benedict almost dropped his mobile in shock as the words registered.
“Look,” Benedict snarled. “I don’t care who you are; just tell me how to help her.”
The phone went dead.
Shit
, thought Benedict, the bastard had hung up on him.
He called 112 and spoke quickly, telling the call handler the situation in fluent Spanish. She told him to check vitals, to keep the patient warm, and she would send an ambulance. Benedict went back to the bathroom with a blanket. Siena didn’t stir. She was like a dead weight; he knew it would be difficult to lift her. Also, she was naked. He looked in her wardrobe and pulled a long, loose kaftan from a hanger. He pulled it over her head with difficulty, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he wrestled first one arm then another though the sleeves before tugging the fabric over the rest of her body. Laying the blanket beside her, he rolled her over onto it. He took her pulse; it was strong, and that reassured him. It seemed like forever before he heard a knock on the door. The ambulance crew checked and loaded her in minutes, and then they were en-route to the hospital, where they quickly carried Siena away.
Fatigue pulled at him as he sat in the waiting room, the bright lights making everyone and everything look bleached of colour. Exhausted, he closed his eyes. He must have slept for some time, the light when he awoke suggesting well after mid-day. Standing groggily, he made his way to the information desk and patiently explained what had happened. He asked if there was any news on Miss Waters’ condition and if he could see her. The receptionist lifted the phone and started to talk rapidly. Although Benedict could understand what she was saying, it was only her side of the story.
“Sir,” she said. “Mrs Waters is comfortable at present and her husband is with her.”
Benedict just stared at her, his mind a jumble.
“I understand,” he said. “Thank you.”
Walking back to the waiting room chair, he sat back down. What was he going to do? He couldn’t very well barge into the room with her husband there. Making a decision, he stood up and again approached the reception desk. Obtaining the relevant details, he left the waiting room and made his way through the passageways until he found what he had been looking for; a small shop selling the usual array of products found in every hospital around the globe.
He chose the prettiest bunch of flowers he could find, paid for them, and headed through the hospital. After getting lost several times, he finally arrived at the right place, the nurse smiling at him as he approached. Although uncomfortable, Benedict used his looks to his advantage. Smiling transformed him. The receptionist responded by blushing.
“Hi, I’d like to leave these for Miss Waters,” he said in English.
The nurse seemed to recognise the name, but she turned to her colleague and spoke briefly with her to be sure.
“Señor, Mrs. Waters has been transferred to our main hospital in Malaga.”
Benedict paled. “Is she all right? Has something happened?”
“Señor is a member of the family?” she asked.
“Yes.” His fear and genuine concern convinced the nurse.
“She is stable and making progress, her husband, he insists on moving her.”
Shit
, Benedict thought, they hadn’t eaten and she had wanted to. He realised not eating properly was dangerous for diabetics.
“Mr. Waters wanted the transfer and so it has been done.” She shrugged. Benedict sensed she was not a fan of Mr. Waters.
“Okay, can I leave these with you?” he asked, handing her the flowers.
“Sí.” She smiled and Benedict smiled back, despite the gnawing fear that was building inside him.
Benedict secured the transfer information and left the hospital. Unable to visit Siena, he could at least call. Exhausted, he headed back to the hotel, his mind on Siena and how she kept getting away from him. Now he understood why. She was married; it was like a blow to his solar plexus, and he felt utterly betrayed. He hadn’t even looked at her hand for a wedding ring, his mind had been elsewhere. He realised he knew nothing about her; she was a complete mystery to him. All he had was her home and villa address. He knew he should walk away; it was just one night after all, he didn’t owe her anything. Paying the taxi, he stumbled through the hotel in a daze and eventually crawled into bed, where he would sleep for six straight hours.
THE BRAILLE CLUB
Braille Club, London, Present Day: When Patron keys vibrate, it’s like a physical shock. Although expecting it, they often gasp in panic and excitement; surrounded by people, they must fight the instinct to run to their zone as the vibrations pulse against their skin. Instead, they force themselves to walk towards the wall of doors, desperately looking for the one only their key unlocks, hearts racing and palms damp as the minutes tick by. Dreading and longing for the moment the vibrations increase, indicating fifteen minutes to lockdown, relief flooding through them as a door clicks open, and they slip inside.
Abbey
Abbey felt
like
a million dollars as she left the spa and climbed into her waiting car, her body still tingling after her full body scrub and massage. She felt like she was bubbling inside. She had seven missed calls from Steve. Normally she would have been frantic she hadn’t been there to speak to him, but somehow it didn’t feel important today. Her phone started to vibrate and Steve’s face flashed on the screen; she took the call.
“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you all day,” ranted Steve. Abbey didn’t say anything for a few seconds before replying.
“When will you be you home?”
Used to his wife being at this beck and call, Steve ignored her question.
“I asked you where the hell you’ve been all day?” He sounded even angrier.
“And I asked you when you’ll be home,” Abbey replied.
“Why?” said Steve suspiciously “What are you up to, Abbey?”
“Shouldn’t I being asking you that?” replied Abbey, her voice colder now.
Steve was now utterly confused. Abbey was sweet natured, and this was completely out of character for her.
“Abbey, are you picking me up from training? That’s why I’ve been ringing, we landed early, and went straight back to the club, I need a lift.”
“No, I can’t, but I’ll see you at home in about an hour,” replied Abbey and hung up. She saw Steve’s number flash up on her phone again but let it go straight to answerphone. She knew he would be furious. Steve had told her how he liked her to pick him up—how he liked her coming to the ground in his flash car, liked the way his mates looked at his wife in envy. Her phone rang again, she knew it would be Steve, he would be furious, but she ignored the insistent ringing. A beep indicated he had left a message but Abbey had no intentions of listening to him rant at her. She wondered how long it would take him to realise he would need to get a lift.
Abbey smiled as she saw Luke’s car drive up, stopping to let Steve out, and their eyes locked for a second. She had always liked Luke, but Steve thought he was a total prat. She sensed Luke wasn’t keen on Steve either; he always seemed to keep his distance. Abbey turned away from the window as the door slammed, and Steve yelled her name. Ignoring him, she carried on rubbing the moisturiser onto her skin before removing her robe. She was sitting on the bed completely naked when Steve burst into the room.
Startled, he stopped in his tracks.
“Sit down, Steve. We need to talk,” said Abbey, her voice steady.
“Abbey, what the fuck’s got into you?” said Steve incredulously.
“I said sit down, Steve. Either sit down or get out, it’s your call,” she replied.
Dumbstruck, Steve sat down on the sofa in their luxurious bedroom.
“I’m going to give you one last chance,” said Abbey. Steve grinned; he’d guessed as much and felt himself relax.
“But it’s not going to be easy; you’ll need to work for it,” Abbey said, standing and walking towards him. Steve could feel his erection already pressing painfully against him as he adjusted himself.
“You need to be different, Steve. I know people don’t change, but you’re going to need to try.”
Abbey was now standing naked in front of Steve, and he reached up to touch her. She slapped his hand away.
“You don’t get to touch me,” she said coldly.
“Babes,” groaned Steve. “I need you, babes.”
Abbey understood that Steve had no control, was a wham bam, thank you, ma’am type of guy. Used to getting exactly what he wanted, he wasn’t used to being denied. His handsome face twisted in disappointment, making him seem like a spoilt child, and Abbey almost laughed.
He was tall and athletic, his thick brown hair falling across his wide-spaced, wounded blue eyes. Those navy blue eyes continued to stare at her. He was sexy, and looking at him now all tanned, she realised she still fancied him. He was a total rat; he may never change, but she still wanted to try. Abbey had the ribbon with the bell wrapped around her wrist; she had put it there to keep her focused, to give her the strength she needed.
“Do you see the case I’ve packed?” she asked.
Steve tore his gaze off his wife to look at the bed, and saw the case lying there.
“You need to change, Steve, because I’m ready to leave today,” she said. There was a hard edge in her voice. Something had changed in Abbey. She saw a flicker of fear in Steve’s face as she opened her wardrobe, empty except for a robe. She reached into its pocket and removed the blindfold ribbon.
“You’ve got one chance, and I want you to do exactly as I say.” She stood before him, and she could see the hunger in her husband’s eyes.
Steve went to talk, but Abbey put a finger to his lips.
“This is it, you either do what I ask or I’m leaving.”
Steve nodded, licking his lips unconsciously as he continued to stare at her. She knew he was still mesmerised by her naked body.
“Do you see this bell? You can’t let it ring; you need to keep still, Steve, that’s very important.”
“I’m going to put these over your hands.” She knelt down, careful not to let her body touch him, and slipped the loops of the ribbon around his wrists. Steve was breathing hard, his gaze on her firm breasts, the nipples already erect as if to taunt him. He licked his lips again, his mouth dry as his erection pressed uncomfortably once again.
She spoke to him like a child. Although Steve was blessed with good looks and talent, he lacked intelligence. She stood now, leaning in close, and pulled the basic blindfold ribbon over his eyes.
“Hey,” he gasped.
“That’s the second thing, Steve, you mustn’t speak; you only listen now. Nod your head if you want me to go on, or ring the bell if you want me to stop.”
Steve nodded his head, a look of confusion on his face but his arousal was obvious. Abbey could tell he was finding it hard to concentrate.
“Steve, I want you to think about my body.” Steve groaned.
Abbey hoped he was picturing her naked body, a picture no man would be disappointed with. She had a petite frame with high perky breasts, a long toned stomach and soft, slim thighs. Abbey knelt behind him, her mouth close to his ear.
“I’m lying here below you and my arms are thrown back behind my head. I am exposed and laid bare to you, but you can only have my mouth, nothing else…not until you’ve earned it. What will you do with my mouth, Steve?”
“Do you want to kiss me? Crush your lips against mine? Take my mouth? Push your way inside?”
“How does it feel?” Abbey’s mouth was close to his ear now “You’re so good with your tongue; I can feel it pushing my lips apart, thrusting its way inside.” Abbey let out a long moan, caught up in the story she was telling.
“Am I wet, Steve?” She could sense he was at the breaking point.
“Your lips are bruising mine as you claim my mouth, sucking hard, your tongue thrusting deeper and deeper. I want the new Steve so much. I don’t want the old Steve anymore.”
Steve looked agitated, his breathing ragged, he seemed fit to explode, desperately pressing his hands down hard against his crotch.
“Every time you’re good to me, I’ll put something back in my wardrobe. You need to redeem yourself. Keep thinking of my body, Steve. My body has missed you…really missed you. I want you so badly, but you don’t seem to want me.” Abbey’s voice caught a little.
“My mouth is full of you but I want more…” her voice teased. “I bite down hard on your lip. You taste so nice; I want you to put yourself in my shoes. Do I need to find someone else, Steve? Because I will; I don’t want to, but you’ll need to convince me.”
Abbey could feel the heat coming from Steve; hear his breathing fast and ragged. “My mouth is begging for more, Steve. Do you want me to find another guy?” Abbey stood then, facing Steve, watching as his body tightened and twitched. “Let some other guy touch me… like those other women touched you?” Steve winced, his body twisting. Abbey could see the sheen of sweat on his face. “Let some other guy kiss me…long and hard. I think I might need that…Let him slip his tongue into my mouth.”
“No,” roared Steve as the bells started to ring.
Abbey smiled; her first real smile in what felt like forever.