The Braille Club (The Braille Club #1)

BOOK: The Braille Club (The Braille Club #1)
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The Braille Club

 

 

J.A. Kerr

 

The Braille Club

 

Copyright © 2015 by J.A. Kerr. All rights reserved.

First Print Edition: July 2015

 

 

Limitless Publishing, LLC

Kailua, HI 96734

www.limitlesspublishing.com

 

Formatting: Limitless Publishing

 

ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-206-2

ISBN-10: 1-68058-206-2

 

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

 

Ben

57

Take the pieces and build them skywards.

 

 

Dedication

 

I want to thank my amazing editors, you did a terrific job.

I would like to thank my mum who passed on her passion for books, for which I’ll always be grateful.

To all my family and friends for believing.

To my angels for their friendship.

To G, C and L, all my love, I couldn’t have done it without you.

 

Author’s Note:

 

This was my dream, to write a successful book. Thank you for making my dream a reality.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

 

A BRAILLE PARTY, MARBELLA, 10 YEARS AGO.

2002

 

The air, heavy with scent and excitement, caresses the guests as they mingle. Laughter and anticipation make them giddy and carefree. Those in the know, wait—for those who are new an explosive experience lies ahead. Their host enters the room, the game is about to begin.

 

Will and Benedict graduated together but were not close friends. Let down by his friend on a holiday he booked, Will talked Benedict into going instead. He mentioned an exclusive party and hinted Benedict would not want to miss it. With the graduation money Benedict’s father gave him burning a hole in his pocket, he’d gone on impulse, enjoying his step-mother’s look of dismay. Benedict would be leaving immediately. She had organised a small graduation dinner, and he now had the perfect excuse not to attend.

Will had been mysterious about the event, saying only it was a Braille Party.

“What’s a Braille Party?” Benedict asked.

“All will be revealed when we get there,” said Will evasively.

They’d gone straight to the party from the airport and were grateful of the drink they received on arrival. The room was already busy as it was late, and they soon blended with the crowd. After half an hour, Benedict became aware of their host. He entered the room and gradually as people noticed him, they stopped talking. When the room fell completely silent, he asked everyone to follow him. Benedict looked at Will, uncertain, and he nodded. They followed the host as he led everyone into an enormous room, breath-taking in its splendour. Each guest was handed a blindfold as they entered.

Sensing Benedict’s hesitation, Will pushed him through the door. Benedict stared at the blindfold in his hand and followed the others, stopping in front of several rows of chairs. They were widely spaced and unusual in appearance, rich ochre velvet with narrow padded backs. The vast room featured an enormous fireplace and expensive chandeliers.

The host explained the blindfolds were part of the game. Once the blindfolds went on, they could not be removed until everyone was instructed to do so. Anyone with an issue with this must leave the room. No one moved and Benedict stood, intrigued to learn more. A mixture of people, both male and female, stood listening. Benedict only knew Will; the rest were strangers. Scanning the room, Benedict saw excitement. Everyone was told to follow the host’s instructions to the letter. Anyone not complying would be removed.

“Put your blindfolds on now,” the host commanded.

Self-consciously, Benedict did as instructed. The blindfold was like nothing he’d seen before. More like a hood that fitted over the head, it rested on the bridge of the nose like an eye mask. Soft weighted padding around the eyes made it fit snugly into the sockets and plunged the wearer into absolute darkness.

Benedict pulled his on and felt panic rise in him as complete disorientation took over. The eyes are the wireless control that coordinates our mind and body. Without them, the rest of the senses are shocked into action. Benedict heard gasps and murmurs all around him from the fellow guests. He touched his hands to his face, ready to pull the hood off, when Will whispered, “Don’t be alarmed, Benedict. Breathe deeply until you get used to the dark.”

Benedict had always hated the dark and fought to calm his racing heart.

“Quiet,” the host admonished. The room fell silent once more. “Please concentrate on my voice. From now on you will not speak; silence is mandatory. I insist each person waits until they are escorted to their seat. When seated, please put your arms behind you so your hands may be tied.” Again gasps and murmuring from the guests.

“Silence,” roared the host. “I assure you, ladies and gentlemen, this is an intrinsic part of the game, as you will come to understand, and a precaution to prevent you from removing your blindfolds. Anyone unhappy with this development, please raise your hand, and you will be escorted from the room, but please do not remove your blindfold until after you have left.” Benedict listened intently but sensed no movement. “You will be guided to your seats now.”

Benedict jumped as firm hands guided him to his seat and wondered why he hadn’t heard this person approaching. His heart raced as his senses strained. His body was rigid and he jerked as he felt a soft fabric wrap around his wrists. As he moved his hands, Benedict heard bells ringing and realised they were attached to the soft bindings.

“Now,” said the host. “Let the fun begin. Ladies and gentlemen, this is a game of endurance, but you will experience no pain. Each person will have a unique encounter. The winner is the only person
not
to make their bell ring. If you move your hands or body, the bell will ring, and your game will be over. When your bell rings, please remain seated. Someone will guide you from the room. Please nod your head if you understand and are ready to play.” Against his better judgment Benedict nodded his head. “Ladies and gentlemen, you will shortly receive a tap on your shoulder, this indicates start of play. Enjoy!”

Again, Benedict jumped when he felt a soft touch on his shoulder. All his senses heightened but disoriented as he fought to compensate for his loss of sight. Music flooded the room; its slow sensual rhythms new to him. A powerful smell of citrus and vanilla hung in the air. Benedict’s tense shoulders started to relax and he let the music soothe him as the delicious scent thrummed through his senses, making his pulse quicken.

The contact of a fingertip on his mouth made him flinch. It traced its way across his lips in slow, sensual strokes. The fingertip moved back and forth, slippery with balm, its scent and taste delicious. The slow rhythmic movements became intense and wonderfully erotic. A warm breath on his neck was teasingly close but never quite touching. His nostrils were flooded with a stronger, headier perfume, expensive and sensual. His mind adrift, he was no longer able to concentrate on anything but the touch. He was aware of a presence, heat and movement. His lips began to tingle as his body gradually responded and registered desire.

Benedict gasped as the fingertip changed to a pair of lips that barely grazed his neck. The whisper of a tongue on his skin had him inwardly groaning. The chair he was sitting on began to gently vibrate, pulsing below his coccyx. Sensation rocketed through his body, and something began to stir deep inside of him. Something that had been previously locked was released, like a key had been found. The vibrations seemed to match the increasingly sensuous touch on his lips and neck. Achingly slow waves of longing started to ripple through him, and he fought to keep calm. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. The music seemed to be all around him, perhaps heightened by the blindfold; he wasn’t sure.

The fingertips and lips skilfully traced up and down his neck. They moved along his jaw and lips, grazing his throat, his ears, and his mouth over and over again. The sensations built, sending Benedict’s body into overdrive. The vibrations in the chair intensified, pushing his restraint to the limits. When the lips started to suck a little harder on his skin, he almost lost control.

Benedict parted his lips and a soft moan escaped. He moved his head, trying to anticipate the next caress. He was aroused and lost in the sensations coursing through his body. The pulses more potent now, had everything tightening and tingling. He longed to free his hands, to touch, to control, and was frustrated he could not do so.

He had no sense of time as fingers ran over his face, before resting at the nape of his neck. A fist tugged Benedict’s head back, and then at last, a kiss. Hot moist lips on his, electrifying his sensitised mouth beyond endurance. Connected, he kissed back hungrily, trapped in a vacuum, where only the kiss existed. It was powerful, intense, and all consuming.

Benedict didn’t realise his bell had rung, only that the lips had stopped. Unsure if the person was behind or in front of him, male or female, it was impossible to tell. He only knew he wanted more. The kiss consumed him as he sat panting, the room warm now, making him sweat. He tried to contain his anger. He wanted more, much, much more.

He had no idea how long he had been sitting, or who, if anyone, still remained in the room with him. Gentle hands guided him to his feet. Benedict swayed and stumbled, but strong hands held him upright and untied his hands. He moved, feeling the air change as he entered a cooler room. A voice told him to remove his blindfold but to keep his eyes closed for a short time. His eyes needed time to adjust to the light, and to open them slowly. Blinking, he sat alone in a dimly lit room.

“Would you like a drink, sir?” asked the waiter.

Shaken, Benedict asked for whisky. As he sipped, appreciating the quality of the malt, he assumed others would join him. He got another drink as he continued to wait, his body and mind alive. As time passed and he remained alone, he realised with a start the other guests had played the game before. Furious, he got steadily drunk before eventually falling asleep on the sofa. Benedict never found out if anyone joined him.

 

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