Hey, sorry for the wait. I have been busy. As usual, it is hard to answer any comments as they hint about one of the biggest msyteries of this story.
Mineira1986 wrote: ↑2 years ago
Beautiful!
Love how this chapter moves along with the piano interludes. More considering that Brie is blindfold and we are into this story through her PoV. Again, I hope she can finally enjoy herself into this new world. And, again, it seems she reaches a hard limit that makes take a step away.
Keep it coming. Great work.
Thanks. When blindfolded and gagged, sound and touch are about your last remaining senses, and then they are amplified.
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The piano screeched, and my heart pounded. “If you have had enough and can’t talk, bob your head quickly. They’ll understand,” Yuna had promised. “That’s also a safeword.”
Two seconds passed.
“Do you want to be released?” a woman whispered in my ear. Her voice was affectionate, not condemning.
I nodded.
“Can you hold on for two more minutes?”
I nodded again. The bondage was no issue, but the sudden touches unsettled me. Perhaps, now I had heard her voice, I could continue, but abandoning was better. She had freaked me out.
The torturer had already left as her voice had silenced, the music accelerated, striking the high notes, and an ear-piercing scream ensued. A man. I had heard him two or three times already, but tied, I could only wait. I began to count, and near a hundred, the music halted with the familiar cries of gagged cursing. Another sound accompanied it. Splashing? I was unsure. Were they disregarding their promise?
They were not. Two clicks and slack around my ankles indicated I was indeed released. My arms soon followed, and I flung them around me, both to relax them and to defend myself. My shoulder was gripped, and I was pulled on my feet and pushed out of the room. At long last, my blindfold was removed, and I stared into Beth’s face, still topped with the ridiculous white cap of her costume.
“Bree, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“You certain? Can I get you anything?”
I was just satisfied to be safe. “I’m good.”
“Do you want to go to the safe room? You can also return to the main hall. The dinner finishes in fifteen minutes, so if you behave a little, I won’t punish you anymore.”
I had already given up. Why would I be allowed to return? “Sure.”
“Or do you want a hug first?”
“No thanks. I’m fine,” I replied. Intimate contact was the last thing I desired.
Beth beamed. Was my face expressing too much discomfort? I attempted to pull it neutral. “Bree, I’ve been told about you. If there’s anything you need, ask.”
Again, someone had been talking. I despised that.
“My shift is almost over. Would you fancy joining my friend group afterward?”
Beth’s audacious proposal took me by surprise. “Maybe…” Tired, I desired to leave and be by myself. Sadly, there was nowhere to go; I would have to wait on my hosts to finish partying, wherever they were.
“Well, consider yourself invited. Let’s go to the main hall.” She handed me the ankle boots and socks I had worn earlier, and I put them on.
In the past days, I had been offered few choices and moments where I could develop my own conclusion. And often, I was pressured towards one option. I had lost my independence and the freedom to choose my own path. Here, late at night, I had multiple options. I could run to a secluded spot and wait until Ambrose and Cecilia would pick me up and go home, stay with them at Table 1 or accept Beth’s offer. Even with a choice, I disfavored all.
Firstly, being alone here would make things only more miserable, and like always, everyone would know it. They would be furious, especially after Ambrose had inquired me whether I had had fun. “A bit,” I had replied. He knew I had given up, but running away from them would never help me in the long term. My belongings were still in their home, and I could not leave to the streets wrapped in thin black spandex. With temperatures near freezing, it would be suicide.
Meanwhile, my current predicament was far out of my comfort zone too. Ambrose and Cecilia had a deep conversation with Anna, discussing matters few ears could enjoy. They knew each other well, and Anna was producing ‘ideas’ for scenes with Aoife, recounting them her sinful life in the eighties. Clad in rope and cuffs, she had been the centerpiece of the ‘art’ and had tasted enough men and women to form entire yearbooks. The elderly lady sickened me. I did not know whether showing my loathing face or staring away was less respectful. Either way, the three did not care about my presence.
“Wanna join us?” Beth had cut in, now dressed in tight blue jeans and a black merchandise sweater from the Tangled Maiden. The golden girl encircled by ropes captured my eyes. Without the white cap, Beth was mundane, and on the streets, I would never suspect her enjoying such a job.
“Sure,” I said, pleased with the offer, which I tried to hide. I was not eager for another tie-up, but whatever awaited me could not be worse.
“Cool, but don’t tell Cedric anything. It’s more fun to keep him in the dark. We’re in the playroom. Follow me.”
Playroom? Another euphemism? I trailed my host to a room with worn-out black-leather sofas, ropes and graffiti on the walls, and a tired crew of young people drinking beer and cheap wine. It resembled the staff room where I had eaten breakfast a week prior but was bigger, busier, and livelier.
“Hey, this’s Bree. She’s the artist that drew that portrait of Madam.”
A dozen pairs of eyes gazed at me. Seven girls, half of them wearing the same sweater as Beth and five boys around my age. I recognized Cedric – who still wore the green dress – but another man sported an even uglier and brighter yellow dress. I stared away at the floorboard, where two bound bodies faced down. It did barely startle me.
“Hey, nice meeting ya. I’m Tyler,” a man spoke, followed by many more names of which I remembered none.
“Take a seat,” Beth urged as she dropped herself on Cedric’s lap. He squeezed her thigh. Her job had exhausted her, but she appeared content in the arms of her boyfriend.
“Enjoyed your bondage?” one of the girls in a
Tangled Maiden sweater questioned.
“Yeah,” I lied, acquainted with the task ahead. A group of people who had known each other for ages was going to cross-examine me. Their inquisitive nature would evaluate me and determine whether I was cool enough to hang out with them. After switching schools many times, I had gotten used to the routine and learned I had no reason to worry or try to impress: They would not last long in my life. I had to lie as much to be accepted temporarily. Yet, being homeless instead of a foster kid, I had to bend the truth further. No one should know you are so poor you are begging on the streets and sleeping in abandoned buildings. “I make a living as an artist,” I explained, but I could not deny I was a bondage novice.
Luckily, quickly the group understood I was weary and not talkative. Then, I heard something behind me.
“Fuck!” a man exclaimed, and soon a catastrophe of noise erupted. I turned around.
Together with a girl, he stood next to a pile of small wooden bricks. “You lose,” she smirked. “Come here.” She escorted him to the two bound people on the floor, and he lay down on them. With ropes, she tied his limps to rings on the floor and the arms and legs of the two girls.
“Who’s next?”
“What are we playing?” Beth asked.
“Jenga,” a boy yawned. “Everyone plays a game, and the loser is added to the pile.”
“Sophie, Tyler, you up?” the victorious girl suggested, and the man in the yellow dress and one of the girls in a black sweater rose. They rebuilt the tower, and taking turns, removed a block and placed it on top, further destabilizing the structure.
“Bree, wanna join the game?” Cedric invited.
“No, thanks, I’m good,” I reacted. I preferred watching, although being in anywhere else would likely be better.