by J. A. Kerr
Nick Waters supplied Toby with specific instructions and was impatient for an update but Toby was limited until he was mobile. He found Harrison’s architectural office and went inside, moving with the rest of the throng, invisible in his newly purchased suit. He did this every day until his perseverance paid off and he saw Harrison. The lift stopped at the 4th floor and Harrison got off. Toby glimpsed a pair of glass doors before the lift travelled upwards. This was his life now, surveillance, and he was surprised to find he was enjoying it. He enjoyed stalking, and the money was fantastic. However, he was wary of his employer.
Nick Waters wasn’t a man to be crossed. The incident in prison told him that, but the offer of the surveillance job and cash softened the blow. Plus, what were his choices? Spend the rest of his time inside fighting? He took the deal and so far it was working out. Nick Waters would get what was coming to him. However, he was low priority on his list at the moment. His list started and ended with Niven. She was his main objective, but he still needed to eat to survive and Nick’s money was helping him do that.
He read online about the best surveillance equipment, astounded at the sophistication of technology available. Nick Waters desperately wanted pictures, another new learning curve for him to get to grips with. The sales assistant had been really helpful in the camera store. Toby explained he wanted it for bird watching. The thought made him laugh. The camera was top of the range with a powerful zoom, as were the binoculars, and he was now familiar with Harrison’s routine. He’d arrive at his office about 8:30 and leave around 1:30 p.m. to travel somewhere. Toby, unable to follow him, had been left frustrated in those first few weeks. More confident now, he waited for the car with Benedict Harrison to pass him. Pulling out, he kept the Porsche Cayenne in his sights, careful not to drive too close. He was sweating and tense as he tried to anticipate the car’s direction. The Porsche stopped outside what looked like private parking, and waited for the garage door to open. Toby had no choice but to drive on.
He pulled over and parked as close as he could. Reaching for his binoculars, he trained them on the entrance but the Porsche had disappeared. He looked carefully, swinging the glasses left and right until something caught his attention. A small camera. He’d missed it at first. A camera located above the garage door would be invaluable. After studying it, he smiled. He could approach it from behind without being filmed. It hadn’t been easy but he’d returned that night. The entrance was quiet and it had taken him seconds to unfold the step he carried, place it against the wall, then reach up and place his camera onto the existing camera. There were tall plants screening him.
Stepping back behind them he’d noticed the girl. He’d frozen, his mind shocked to register it was none other than Niven. Excited, he’d grabbed the camera around his neck. He got as near as he dared, taking the shot quickly before ducking down. She’d turned around, stared in his direction, then the cab had distracted her. He’d waited until it was safe then returned quickly to his car. He was desperate to look at his prize but must attend to business first. The thrill of being so close to Niven had his adrenaline pumping. He sparked up the laptop, happy to see the camera was working while he noted the cab was turning around. The images were of a good quality; all he had to do was wait.
He didn’t believe in coincidence, he believed in fate. He was there because he had visual on his quarry and fate had given him Niven. Her flat had been easy to find. Everything was online these days. It had been simple, even Niven used Amazon.com. He had paid to get her account hacked and get her address. He had seen her CCTV and alarm. She was being careful but she couldn’t stop him with that. He wondered if she had reviewed the footage. He’d left her a message. Nothing she could do would stop him. She was his, she belonged to him, and he had waited long enough. He’d blinked at first when he saw her, unable to believe his eyes. She was beautiful and all grown up. He was annoyed he couldn’t see her eyes because of the sunglasses she was wearing; he couldn’t wait to take them off and see the fear that excited him so much. Niven was special, she knew what he was. She’d saw it in him from the beginning and he respected her for that. Her fear teased him. Slaughtering the dog and sending it to Clarisse had been fun but Niven would be better. Calmly, he put the binoculars down as the taxi disappeared. Business first. He turned to his laptop and focused on the task at hand.
Chapter 40
The Braille Club, London, One Year On: The Braille Club has always been an exploration of mind and body but there are always those who want to push…and be pushed, to their limits. The Stoicum Zone is fully booked and ready to deliver.
London 2014
Guy
Niven occupied Guy’s thoughts. His instincts registered her distress and inner turmoil. When she arrived, she looked hunted. Once seated, he studied her more closely. The signals she unwittingly gave off were almost the same as Anna…as if she’d been attacked or was under attack. Guy wanted to protect this girl. Something told him she needed help badly. Her face, as beautiful as it was, had a strained quality he recognised—fear.
He entered the curtained area and looked at Niven anxiously as she sat on the chair. Her body was stiff and taut, the air thick with tension. He wondered at her being the assignee, had banked on her being the patron, but onwards and upwards, he thought. He’d explained in detail how he would place weighted devices around her neck and waist. She was immobile, like a statue when he’d put them on. Though he had been as gentle as he could, she’d still flinched violently when he slipped the cuffs on. Not a good sign, but they wouldn’t touch again.
The scent in the room was soothing, and he hoped Niven would relax once the music began. He watched her closely, seeing her shoulders drop a little as the headphones contained within the hood played the music. He tapped her shoulder lightly to indicate start of play and she hadn’t jumped—hopefully she was more relaxed, but he had his doubts. Suddenly assailed by nerves, his intuition told him to stop. This was wrong. He could see she was trembling, the bells tingling quietly with the vibrations. The session would be excruciating, he thought gloomily; a mistake. Niven may never adapt…and if these sessions didn’t prove successful then it might be kinder to stop them altogether. He tentatively checked the sensory devices across her waist and neck were switched on.
Guy had investigated Niven’s background as part of the enrolment procedures. When he’d read about the accidental stabbing of her housekeeper by her stepbrother, he’d been shocked. All his copper instincts sensed something was amiss with the case. He dug deeper, called some colleagues, and they all confirmed the same suspicion—but with no proof the case had been closed. Niven’s high end glossy magazine pictures were haunting. Something in her eyes transcended through the lens, making beautiful and arresting images. Guy looked at these pictures, unable to reconcile them with the woman he met. Niven in real life was more fragile. A ghost of that person, like all the animation the camera captured was invisible to the naked eye. He did sense backbone and strength; you couldn’t be a model without that, but something was upsetting her.
His colleagues told him Niven was terrified of the stepbrother. Some thought she was the intended victim, and the housekeeper got in the way. However, Niven never confirmed it. There had been other incidents reported. Tyres were slashed and a gruesome delivery of internal organs turned out to be those of a dog. It all pointed at the stepbrother but nothing was found to connect him to the crimes. Guy made a mental note to check him out. Niven’s background check had been red flagged, but she herself was clean. Guy felt uneasy. The more he dug, the more he didn’t like what he found. He must speak with Benedict.
He lifted the new remote control. How to proceed? It would be trial and error. He had no idea what to expect from Niven. He pressed the chair on and took a deep breath. Gentle and patient in his approach, he increased the frequency of the chair and devices. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he saw it was a text from Anna. His pulse quickened.
Anna: Are you coming?
Guy: W
orking, will be another hour at least. x
Anna: Come now…or don’t you like coming? I seem to remember you don’t normally have any problems…
Guy reacted to the underlying inference, his arousal instantaneous as he thought of their last encounter and the air in the room changed again.
Guy: I’ll come as quick as I can. x
Almost intuitively he adjusted the sensory devices on Niven, willing her to respond. The quicker she did, the quicker he could get to Anna. His phone buzzed again.
Anna: Mmmmm, not sure I want you to come quickly…you must endure for your pleasure but the wait is always worth it, don’t you think?
Just those words sent shivers down his spine. He ached for her, his groin pulsing hotly as he distractedly altered the sensory equipment again. Frustrated and impatient, he wanted the session to be over. Wanting Anna, he fought to redirect his focus to Niven. Guy tried to retain some professionalism as his phone buzzed again. He must keep his private and business lives separate; he must stay with Niven. His gaze fell to his phone, fingers itching to open the text. Unable to concentrate, he let his heart rule his head. Without waiting, he clicked into the text and sucked in his breath; a picture of black high heeled shoes. His hand rubbed at his chest, remembering the way those heels dug into his flesh. The exquisite sensation of pleasure and pain left him desperate for more.
When Guy’s phone buzzed with a second image, his body tightened. Anna, insistent, would not be ignored. He looked at the picture—a pair of silk stockings. Images of Anna, naked except for those stockings, filled his head. His heartbeat rocketed and his trousers bulged. He twisted the knob that activated the suction on the Lapels without thinking, increasing the intensity. Niven gasped. Guy’s phone buzzed again, and he clicked on the image immediately. This time it was Anna’s slim thigh wearing the stocking, her foot encased in the high heel shoe; it left him literally panting. The top of her creamy thigh was tantalisingly revealed.
When Guy opened Anna’s next text, he almost stopped breathing. She’d sent a picture of her naked silhouette clear on the wall behind her. Head thrown back…her legs opened wide.
Anna: Are you COMING…because I am!
He was shaking, aroused, and frustrated. He wanted to be gone, already seeing himself banging on Anna’s door and what would happen when she let him in. Impatiently, he increased the intensity of both sensory devices. Niven gasped again.
Guy picked up his phone and texted two words.
Guy: Coming now.
No longer able to stay away, he threw everything there was at Niven, hoping she would forgive him this baptism of fire.
***
Niven
Guy was not the only person aroused. Niven sensed the change in atmosphere immediately, but could not pinpoint what it was. When the top tightened against her skin, she gasped at the tingling around her breasts, the sensation shocking. She resisted it, not wanting to respond, but it became harder and harder. The sensual music combined with the increased suction finally penetrated her senses. Her first ripple of desire tore through her body and left her completely unnerved.
Niven’s eyes fought to open beneath the hood she wore, her breath erratic as her body responded to some carnal desire she wasn’t aware she possessed. No longer able to resist, she let herself go and felt everything at once, from the erotic suction at her nipples to the central pulse rising through the chair. No longer immune, the verse slipped from her mind as her body jerked in response to the onslaught until at last her bells rang. Everything fell silent; she sat stunned, unable to process events. She was in shock, her body on fire, leaving her breathless with the realisation—she wanted more!
***
Guy
Guy turned and was out of the zone in seconds, striding to his car. The journey a blur, he battered on her door, breathing hard. As it opened he stepped inside and kicked it shut.
Chapter 41
The Braille Club, London, One Year On: Membership within the club is at an all-time high as its reputation goes from strength to strength without a word ever being uttered.
London 2014
Ford
Ford had beads of sweat on his face as he fought to calm himself. It had taken incredible control to get to this point when all he desired was Esme, naked and beneath him, but he knew this way was better. He wanted Esme on any grounds, but he wasn’t prepared to let her know that. He would show her after tonight…the only thing she would want or need was him. She must have no doubts; he wasn’t interested in a fling, he was in it to win it, and Esme was his prize. Switching on the Chair and the Lapel simultaneously, he saw Esme tense. He would take her on the roller coaster journey of her life and enjoy every erotic second of it because she wouldn’t last long—not if he had anything to do with it. Ford watched with hooded eyes, unable to look away. He couldn’t see her face but in every other way she was exposed to him. Arousal hung heavily in the surrounding air, mixed with the wonderful scent of Caligo, its heady perfume just as sensual. He moved the controls, pushing her further.
***
Esme
Every nerve ending inside Esme was already on fire as she sat waiting. She was drunk with desire as she remembered Ford removing her jumper and unhooking her bra. His hands had caressed her breasts; his fingers stroking the hard buds before he put them in his mouth. Esme’s legs almost buckled, and then he stopped to pull on the clinging top she now wore. She remembered the words he had whispered in her ear.
“Remember what my touch feels like, Esme.”
She shivered as she waited. Ford had almost carried her to the Chair, wasn’t that breaking the rules? The thought thrilled her. She’d found the hood and slipped it over her head, glad of the curtains that separated them from the others. He’d pulled her arms back and clipped on the cuffs. Only Esme could measure how good her new sensory devices felt.
The bells stopped ringing and she felt Ford place the Lapel gently around her neck and chest. She moaned and he gently put his fingers to her lips to silence her. The touch of his hand on her shoulder indicated start of play. Esme’s competitive nature suddenly roared.
The top tightened around her, grazing her already sensitised breasts, and she bit her lip. She could feel the vibrations of the chair and fought the urge not to grind her body in response. She bit her lip harder as the tingling sensation of the Lapel sensory device kicked in. Awash in sensation, her mind focused on Ford, on his words. When the suction started she gulped, her arms rigid. The chair’s central pulse rose and fell, setting everything alight. It was no longer just a sensation; it was Ford’s fingers caressing her. As it intensified, her head fell back as her body strained not to move, not to squirm.
Esme felt everything building and with her body overwhelmed with sensation, her desire took over. She arched under the powerful thrust of the central pulse. As the suction of the Lapels increased she thought of Ford’s mouth on her breasts. As she succumbed, her release fierce and powerful, the vibrations stopped, the cuffs unlocked, and the music faded.
Confused, she struggled to get her breathing and shaking under control. It was only then she realised she must have moved. Must have accidently made those bells ring. Disappointment and then triumph crashed through her. Several seconds passed before she removed the hood and let her eyes adjust to the dim light of the room. Bubbling with excitement, she looked around the room for Ford but it was empty. Puzzled, she removed the Lapel and stood, placing it on the chair as she moved uncertainly through to the changing room. Ford was nowhere to be seen, and she got changed feeling dazed. As she stepped out of the cubicle, her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Ford: How do you feel? Think it over tonight. Speak in the morning. F
Esme sighed, she was upset and a little pissed off that Ford was not around to ask her that question to her face but it got her thinking. He got her thinking, and her face lit up because for once, she knew exactly how she felt.
Chapter 42
The Braille Club, London, One Year On:
Membership was not the only thing at an all-time high at the Braille Club. Security, as ever, was a top priority. Guy was working on new fingerprint technology. It was being trialled in the Elite Suites. A scanner at reception copied the thumbprint, and that was sent wirelessly to the door lock recognition system. Only the client’s thumb would unlock the room door. However, in the future it would open all doors.
London 2014
Siena
Siena gasped as she saw the new Braille Chair and ran her fingers over the plush velvet. The new chair was higher, more like a bar stool, as she used the foot bar to push herself up and onto the chair. She noticed the buckles and clipped them into place, feeling excited and secure. Satisfied, this session promised to be a new sensory experience for both of them. She knew of the surprises and wondered what they were. Benedict mentioned there would be several. Trembling, she slipped the hood over her head and was plunged into darkness. Benedict entered and Siena smiled, his presence sending thrills through her body. The newly designed cuffs felt different as Benedict slipped them over her wrists, lighter but softer, and she already approved. Ford said that the motion sensitive prototype would save time; she would always prefer the original bells, but accepted technology was the way forward. The new sensor fitted to the cuffs would make it impossible for assignees to continue. Their movement automatically detected, the termination switch to all sensory equipment would be triggered. She hoped she wouldn’t trigger it too quickly.
