The Braille Club (The Braille Club #1)

by J. A. Kerr

  “Before the lesson begins, I want to show you some of the sensory equipment we have. You can choose anything within the range. This is the teaching suit,” said Grace, stepping into it and pulling it up her legs before slipping her arms through the sleeves.

  It looked like a wetsuit with a long ribbon at the back that Grace pulled up. Lightly ribbed fabric seemed to mould itself to her body. She handed a similar suit to Gabriella and pointed to a cubicle.

  “Please put your sensory suit on first, then the teaching suit. When you are ready, we will go to Elysian. I believe you will be coming with your husband for his birthday. We have a lot to cover, so he’s not disappointed,” said Grace, smiling mischievously.

  Grace pointed a remote control at the back wall, and it clicked open. Gabriella followed her through to the next room, stunned by the interior; she was now in a luxurious booth. Grace flipped a switch, and the opaque glass door opened, leading onto a passageway. The room was glass panelled, like an ornate office, a central corridor with five luxurious booths on either side, lush cream interiors with mink coloured velvet chairs in the centre. Like a plush bar stool, they were high with a foot rest, but had a narrow padded back. The chair had a silver handle bar above it, below the foot rest was a circular stand. A cream antique style wardrobe stood inside, containing several pieces of sensory equipment, some of which Gabriella had already used. A switch was located at the back wall. The whole feel was of light and understated luxury, the right balance between beautiful decor and functionality. Grace led her back inside the first booth.

  “This is the most important part of the room.” Grace indicated the centre. “Let me show you what this chair can do.”

  Grace tugged on a large silver loop on the back of the chair and out popped a narrow padded seat.

  “This is used when the chair is upright.” She demonstrated by sitting on the seat. There were footholds at the back of the chair, like fixed stirrups, and she popped her feet through, then she stood up holding the handle.

  “This position allows you to access the neck, arms, and upper torso.” She then got off the chair and asked Gabriella to sit down. “Use the harness to clip yourself into the chair. We do ask guests to use them for their safety and comfort.”

  Gabriella pulled the harness over her shoulders and clipped it into a large central buckle. Grace leaned over and tightened the straps, and Gabriella was surprised how secure she felt; she liked it. Grace now slipped her feet into the footholds, demonstrating target areas with a tap to Gabriella’s skin.

  “Now this area,” Grace indicated the circular stand, “is used to access the front of the body.” She had a small tablet in her hand and pressed a button. The lights dimmed, and soft music began to play in the booth. Grace moved behind Gabriella, pushing the padded seat back into place before pushing a button that lowered Gabriella’s chair slightly.

  “Now, whatever you want your husband to experience can be done manually, or by using the sensory equipment, whatever you prefer.”

  Again Grace demonstrated target areas, making it look easy. She was fast and highly skilled from years of practise, and Gabriella struggled to keep up.

  “However, your experience today will come purely from the equipment. I will put your blindfold on now, Gabriella, and can I ask that you put your hands behind you and I will secure them with the cuffs? The bells on the cuff work, but these particular cuffs also have motion sensors. Should you move them, it will set off an alarm, which will make your key vibrate. Once the alarm is triggered, the door will open and the cuffs will unlock. Please place the sensory equipment back in the wardrobe. We ask that all guests leave the room within fifteen minutes.”

  The weighted hood slipped over Gabriella’s eyes and the music filled her head. She licked her dry lips, her heart beating wildly, unsure of what to expect. She felt strangely comfortable, and was taken by surprise as the suit she was wearing suddenly started to tighten around her body, like vacuum packing. Grace had told her to wear her hair up, and she felt a cool breeze across her face and lips. It flowed around her neck sensuously, enjoyably. She experienced the slow pulse in her arms first; it seemed to be coming from the ribbed lines of the suit that was moulded to every part of her body. The slow pulses travelled down her body, intensifying under her arms, a sensitive area, before they skimmed down the side swell of her breasts. The pulse had carried on down the side of her body to her thighs before it started to work its way back up in a slow, sensuous circuit.

  Gabriella’s breathing quickened, her body, starved of contact, seemed to melt, and she was glad of the harness holding her tightly. The air continued to blow intermittently hot and cold on her lips and neck, and she could smell the wonderful scent all around her. The music seemed attuned to the pulse as it slowly continued its journey over her body. She tensed as it ran over her breasts, her nipples hardening at once, making her gasp. The pulses seemed to quicken, and Gabriella was panting as the vacuum effect started around her nipples. It felt like they were being gently pulled, and the sensation sent shock waves through her body.

  Holding her hands still seemed very difficult, and she could barely concentrate. Then there was more than one pulse running up and down her body, electrifying her skin and senses. Gabriella was unconsciously biting her lip and moaning as the suction around her nipples increased. When the strong central pulse reached her groin and travelled around to the core of her body she started to shake, setting off the alarm, and the pulses and suction stopped. Her climax had ripped through her body in minutes, and she slumped in the chair. With no idea of time, it was some moments before her mind seemed to focus, and she became aware of her surroundings. Gabriella had never had such a powerful reaction before; the teaching suit was used to accentuate the experience, so members got the impression of a Patron. Her body was still tingling all over from the experience and as she glanced at her watch she was stunned to see she had only been in the chair for fifteen minutes.

  Chapter 21

  THE BRAILLE CLUB

  Braille Club, London, Present Day: The air in all three Mono zones has a particular edge only uncertainty evokes, each zone filled with members who have never met before. They are all unattached and looking for fulfilment with individual tastes and limits. Patron and Assignee will be strangers, their identities protected from each other with only their touch as their calling card, their very own U.S.P…unique selling point.

  Abbey

  Abbey jumped up when Steve leapt from the sofa, pulling his hands apart and stumbling onto the bed. On her in a second, pushing her legs apart and thrusting deep within her, she’d been ready for him. It felt so good, on and on he hammered, her climax growing strong and powerful. Steve was a cheat, but he was a great lover. Maybe the cheating came with that territory, as he was very highly sexed. Abbey had never been guilty of turning him down, her appetite matching his, but still he sought sex elsewhere. She needed to stop that. Steve was reaching his limit, and as out of tune as they were as husband and wife, they were completely in tune as lovers. Abbey pushed her hips up, winding her legs around him and whispered, “Harder.”

  In a frenzy, Steve increased his rhythm. Bolder now, she repeated her request and he obliged until they both stilled as their long awaited climax flowed through them. Abbey’s seemed to go on forever; her eyes closed as the sensations travelled through her body. She felt drenched in desire, but did she still want Steve?

  Luke popped into her head; charming, polite, smiling Luke, the polar opposite of Steve. Why was she even thinking about him? They would see him tomorrow night at the club, a dinner in honour of…she couldn't remember. She had, in fact, tuned out, her typical response now to events at the club. All her so-called friends would be there, with their judging eyes and smug smiles, openly hostile now, their partners giving Abbey a sympathetic smile by way of apology.

  Well, she didn’t want their pity, but she recognised the days of standing by her man were gone too. This was Steve’s last chance, and he needed to understan
d that. God he was stupid, she thought worriedly. Too easily led and uncomplicated. Qualities that had made her fall for him, his simple love had charmed her.

  But he’d changed as her success grew, becoming jealous and insecure. It was at this crucial time that she’d desperately sought his support and encouragement. He’d repaid her with betrayal. She closed down those thoughts; what was the point? She got up from the bed and searched for her ribbon.

  “What are you doing?” said Steve hoarsely. Abbey saw him close his eyes, he looked exhausted. He’d confessed to her a few days ago he’d been feeling tired a lot recently, not himself, losing weight without trying. She’d been worried and urged him to go to the doctor, but he had laughed, telling her not to worry, he was enjoying the fact his clothes felt a little looser. He had gained some weight during the media fiasco. Comfort eating, Abbey suspected, to ease his guilty conscious. He admitted to her what an idiot he was; he didn’t understand why he allowed those gold diggers anywhere near him. Complaining the papers painted him using them, but always drunk; he said it was quite the opposite. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t say no. He’d told Abbey he’d even asked the lads at training if it was normal, always wanting sex. They’d laughed with him, said they were at it like rabbits, but they couldn’t meet his gaze and Steve had let it drop. Abbey feared he was some kind of sex addict. She heard him sigh. Turning, she saw his gaze fixed intently on her.

  “We’re going to play a game, Steve,” she told him; her voice had an edge to it again.

  “No more games,” he groaned, but his traitorous body was responding.

  “Oh yes, we’ve only just started,” Abbey purred.

  “Do you know what, Abbey? You are the perfect wife,” Steve declared. “I love your perfect dimples and your sex-rumpled hair.” Abbey smiled at him, enjoying this rare compliment from her husband, but he wasn’t finished. “I love your toned body and your delicious pink nipples, which are really turning me on,” he murmured softly.” You have my full attention.”

  Abbey nodded, feeling a surge of power over her husband. “I’m going to lie down and pull my arms up, and I want you to tie them together with this ribbon. I’m going to put on the blindfold, and you can have carte blanche with my body, but you don’t use that.” Abbey indicated Steve’s nether regions and smiled.

  Steve scowled, his face telling her he didn’t want to wait, he wanted his wife, and he needed her now, but one look at Abbey’s face told him he had no choice. Resigned, he took the ribbon with the bell and shook it. The ringing startled him.

  “Same rules?” he asked Abbey. She nodded, surprised he had remembered. He was more tactile than Abbey, a touchy-feely kind of bloke with both men and woman. Abbey pulled on the blindfold and her skin started to tingle. Steve chose to lie on top of her while he tied her hands, his erection already hard as he ground against her, and she immediately responded. The bell tinkled as he rolled her on her side, but it stopped now her hands were secure and she was still.

  She thought about Luke, but pushed the thought away as Steve’s fingers travelled over her body, his touch light. He laid Abbey on her side. He was behind her, his hands running up and down her arms, skimming down her hips and onto her thighs until he got to her toes and back again. Abbey quivered now, her body sensitised by Steve’s repeated stroking.

  He slid his hands up and down her spine, making her skin tingle. He ran his hands over her behind, cupping her cheeks, stroking her buttocks with his nails, the sensation delicious and erotic. His hand travelled down, sliding between her thighs and lower, before going back up her body. Abbey moaned as his hand cupped her breast, her nipples already hard, ready for his touch, but he only skimmed around them and she sighed in frustration. Steve’s hands were travelling down her back again, his fingers dancing over her rear until he was pulling her legs apart ever so gently, careful not to rock her. Abbey was on fire; her inner core hot and slippery. Steve’s hands seemed to be all around her and when she felt his lips on her dimples, her body tensed. His tongue was licking her cheeks, prodding, parting, thrusting into her until she exploded, thrashing on the bed, and not hearing the bell. Steve withdrew, smiling at her.

  “No,” she gasped; she wanted him. He flipped her on her tummy and started again with his tongue running up her inner thighs until she was whimpering and pleading, his fingers slipping inside her as her whole body flexed in response; then his tongue. Abbey wound her hands in the bedclothes until at last his cock was filling her, his fingers working inside her rear, her special trigger, and they were flying together, the most beautiful thing either of them had ever experienced.

  Later, they slept together in each other’s arms, finally content, waking with smiles for each other in the morning, gentle in their lovemaking, then sharing a shower and breakfast together before pulling on their gym clothes and going for a run. Both felt invigorated afterwards, laughing as they stepped into the shower for the second time.

  Steve drove Abbey to the salon and waited happily while she had her hair done, completely oblivious to the receptionist, who was flirting outrageously with him. Then they were back at the house, having a light snack before changing for the night’s dinner. Abbey had never looked so pretty, in a sensational cream cocktail dress cut low at the back, making him think of those dimples. The colour of the dress brought her eyes and skin alive.

  Abbey saw the look in her husband’s face; his navy blue eyes darkened with desire and she wondered if she was dreaming. Things had been so strained between them since the last story broke. She sensed her body responding and glanced at the black ribbon on her wrist, her talisman. He grabbed her, breathing hard, the tinkling bell exciting them both.

  “You know the rules,” she breathed. “I can’t wait to play later; it’s my turn.” She smiled wickedly.

  Steve leant down and kissed her long and hard, the persistent beeping of their private car outside eventually dragging them apart. Reapplying her lip gloss quickly and grabbing her bag, they rushed downstairs and out to the car, uttering their apologies. The driver was taken aback; his passengers appeared happy. They sat close, their heads almost touching as they talked, entirely different from a few days ago when they were as far apart as possible and the air was heavy with recriminations.

  Opening his wife’s door, he helped her out, pulling her close to him, drinking her in. They walked into the dinner hand in hand, with eyes only for each other. Greeting people warmly, his wife by his side, Steve smiled at Abbey. They entered a large and crowded room. The women gazed appreciably at Steve; he looked handsome in his navy suit, but they were disappointed by his lack of response. He frequently enjoyed looking at the females in the room, making eye contact, but not tonight, he only had eyes for Abbey. The men looked at her appreciatively; she was beautiful, glowing with happiness on the arm of her husband.

  The meal began, and Steve pulled the chair out for Abbey to sit down. To Abbey it was like he was seeing her for the first time as his gaze travelled over her face and body. As she leaned over to pick up the menu, she felt his gaze on her smooth back, the dress revealed a glimpse of her dimples. Steve’s hand caressed the bare skin of her shoulders before his fingers travelled downwards. Heat flooded through her, and she was suddenly impatient for this night to end. She wanted to get her husband home; she was ready to play the game again.

  ***

  Luke

  Like the rest of the room, Luke couldn’t help but notice the change in the couple, it was remarkable. Steve didn’t deserve her, but he wished Abbey happiness. How long before Steve strayed again was anyone’s guess. He had brought Lucy with him; they had an understanding, and it worked perfectly for them both. Lucy was posh, really posh, and he loved her self-belief and strength. She didn’t cling to him; she didn’t simper and was a tigress in bed. They were having fun, she said, plus if she could scare her parents into thinking she would marry a footballer, then even better. She said her mother was a terrible snob and kept forcing awful men on her, like the dark ages.
Luke had never met them and never wanted to, but happily played along. Plus life with Lucy was interesting; he never knew where she would take him next. He stared over at Abbey at the bar; their eyes locked for a second and again he felt the heat between them before he turned back to Lucy.

  “You like her?” Lucy observed, her cut glass accent always taking him by surprise. “I don’t blame you, she’s gorgeous; I so would,” she breathed.

  Another of Lucy’s little quirks…dating women, she had confided to Luke she’d always been bi-sexual. Her mother had caught Lucy fondling another girl whilst at home during half term. Unabashed, Lucy had called it experimentation, but her mother had been aghast, and had called her a lesbian. Lucy has simply shrugged but a tension remained between her parents and herself. That’s why her mother was so desperate to marry her off. They continued to lock horns, but Lucy was all grown up now and completely in charge of her life. She was sexy and dangerous. He had been swept away by her until now…Luke found his gaze straying back to Abbey.

  Chapter 22

  THE BRAILLE CLUB

  Braille Club, London, Present Day: Bonded Zone XY and XY; Patrons and Assignees have no such indecision; they know each other and what is expected of them. The testosterone charged air is expectant as if their pride, as well as their pleasure, is at stake. Flexing their muscles, Patrons move into position, and in this zone everything is hard and taut.

  Siena, 16 years old

  The weeks following the loss of Leo were the worst I’d ever experienced. My mother, driven crazy with grief, blamed first my dad for denying her those last precious moments with Leo, and then me. She berated us both for this lost time. I could only say sorry, my guilt and pain unbearable.