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He leads me along, and I rely on him for balance, wishing I’d have chosen more sensible shoes. I focus on my breathing, holding back whimpers as he instructs me of a step, step, step coming up, and I manage it, in sync with his directions. We climb the steps and walk through a doorway. I hear the door close behind us.
We’re on carpet, or a rug now. I feel it under my heels, a contrast to the clack of the stone steps outside.
“We’ll keep your bag safe,” the voice says, and lets me go. I teeter, but don’t fall, managing to keep my balance. “I’m going to strip you now,” he says.
He takes off my coat, and there is someone else alongside him, I can hear them shuffling around. He hands them my coat, before he unzips my dress in one solid movement, and holy fuck, I feel so cold and exposed without it. I wrap my arms around my chest to cover myself, but he tugs them back to my sides.
“No hiding.”
“Ok. Sorry.”
“Out of your shoes,” he says, and I balance as best as I can as I step out of them. His hand is there to guide me, and I hear the other person reach down to take them away.
Then comes the jangle of chains. It makes me jump as they get closer.
“Arms out in front of you,” the voice says.
I do as I’m told, shivering as the cuffs are fastened securely around my wrists. Thick leather, with buckles. Buckles and chains. I hear the man drop to his knees and he fastens another set of cuffs around my ankles. The chains are connected, and I feel like a criminal awaiting sentence as he takes my arm and directs me along.
Hell, it feels like a long journey. Every step feels like a mile.
I’m so nervous when he stops. He drops so his face is in mine. It’s weird that he’s so up close through the hood, yet I haven’t got a clue who he is.
“Holly, I’d like to reinforce that you can use your safe word at any time, and the session will cease immediately. Should you do so, I will collect you and return you to the main hallway. I will then uncuff you, and get you dressed again. The car will be waiting to take you back to your apartment. Do you understand?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“Under no circumstances will you remove your hood, even after using your safe word. You must trust in us that the session is over, and you are safe. Do you accept?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent. Then, in that case, your proposal starts now.”
I hear the creak of a door opening – clearly thick, heavy and wooden – and then he leads me inside.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I hold my breath in anticipation, expecting to be met with a crowd, bustling ambience and action, or anything, but the room is silent. It feels empty.
There is no carpet under my feet as I’m led along this time, only a cold tiled floor, and the room is echoey with the jangle of my chains. It’s big. High ceiling, I think. I’m unsteady on my feet as the man guides me.
“Stop here,” he says. “Arms up.”
I raise my arms above my head, and he does something with the chains, connecting them with something up high. A hook, I think, for suspension. And yes, the cuffs start to rise and tighten. I’m winched up until my arms are stretched, barely able to touch the floor on tiptoes. My breaths are so ragged that the fabric of the hood grips me, and my senses are on overdrive, expecting something more, but he walks away. I hear his footsteps as he leaves, and a door closes behind him in the distance.
The room is silent. Literally silent. You could hear a pin drop.
It makes it more ominous.
I stay still for a while, waiting, but nothing happens. Nobody appears. I spin in the chains, listening out for something, anything, but there is nothing there. Bizarrely, the thought of being here, hooded in isolation, is more terrifying than being brutalised by a load of strangers. I feel so alone.
The seconds turn into minutes, and I’m cold now, teeth chattering as I try to balance, swaying in the shackles.
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.
