Chapter 27
Even though the restaurant wasn’t cold, I couldn’t stop shaking. Foster had blindfolded me with his tie in front of all these people. Yes, apparently everyone was here for some sort of private kinky party, but that didn’t make it better. This was declaring an intensely private and personal thing to a crowd. It went against everything I’d been taught growing up. You weren’t supposed to do “naughty” things in the first place, but if you did, you sure as heck didn’t tell anyone. Being submissive to Foster in the safety of a bedroom, exposing my desires to him, had been challenge enough. But this was far, far beyond that. I was still wearing all of my clothes. I’d never felt more naked.
Voices murmured around us as Foster guided me forward through the dining room, and I silently wished for a hatch to open up in the floor and suck me in. These people
knew
now, knew what I doing. And probably had figured out that I was in some sort of trouble. Embarrassment burned my face, and I lowered my head. God, what must they be thinking? Panic and shame coalesced inside me, swirling into a uncomfortable mix. My safe word hovered in the back of my throat, but when I opened my mouth, I couldn’t bring myself to use it.
And I didn’t know
why
I couldn’t freaking say it. One word, and I had full confidence that Foster would end this right now. He didn’t have the right to
punish
me like I was some disobedient child. I could go home and chalk this up to something that’s not for me. Move on. I hadn’t even told my family I wasn’t coming home. I could simply revert to my original plan.
But picturing that scenario left me feeling hollow on the inside. Some strange part of me wanted to make it up to Foster for lying to him, wanted to show him that I could handle whatever he meted out. Even if I didn’t really know if I
could
handle it. If he made me do something in front of all these people . . .
My throat seemed to close up.
“Breathe, Cela,” Foster said, his voice a low, warm caress over my ear as his arm tightened around me.
“I’m trying,” I said in a strangled whisper.
Trust.
It was really what this lesson was about. I was at his mercy. He was making me walk on a narrow ledge with only his hand to keep my balance, and I had to put all of my faith in him in the moment—believe that he would only subject me to what he knew I could handle.
An old homily from church snuck into my brain at that last thought and I snorted—the comparison absurd considering the circumstances.
“You find something funny, angel?” Foster asked wryly.
“No, sir.” I gave a swift shake of my head, my nerves making me near delirious. “I’m sorry. Just a random, bizarro thought.”
“Oh, please,” he said, slowing our step and, based on the swish of air that blew over my face, opening a door. “Do share with the class.”
I blew out a breath and looked toward him, even though I couldn’t see anything through the silk over my eyes. “I was thinking this is oddly religious—the amount of blind faith required. Our priest used to talk about trusting God to only give you what you could manage.”
This time Foster’s voice held amusement. “If you’re comparing me to God, angel, I totally approve.”
A door shut somewhere behind us.
“So you decided to play after all?” another voice interjected, giving me a start.
My mouth clamped shut, and all humor vanished from my system. I crowded against Foster’s side, away from the other voice and approaching footsteps, like a mouse who’d heard a cat’s hungry meow.
Foster gave my hip a squeeze. “Yes. Change of plans.”
“Fantastic. Well, we have equipment set up on second level in the main space. It’s not a fully outfitted dungeon since we only bring in temporary stuff for these parties, but I think you’ll find it adequate. A few people have wandered up there already. We also have a few things set up in the banquet room down the
Even though the restaurant wasn’t cold, I couldn’t stop shaking. Foster had blindfolded me with his tie in front of all these people. Yes, apparently everyone was here for some sort of private kinky party, but that didn’t make it better. This was declaring an intensely private and personal thing to a crowd. It went against everything I’d been taught growing up. You weren’t supposed to do “naughty” things in the first place, but if you did, you sure as heck didn’t tell anyone. Being submissive to Foster in the safety of a bedroom, exposing my desires to him, had been challenge enough. But this was far, far beyond that. I was still wearing all of my clothes. I’d never felt more naked.
Voices murmured around us as Foster guided me forward through the dining room, and I silently wished for a hatch to open up in the floor and suck me in. These people
knew
now, knew what I doing. And probably had figured out that I was in some sort of trouble. Embarrassment burned my face, and I lowered my head. God, what must they be thinking? Panic and shame coalesced inside me, swirling into a uncomfortable mix. My safe word hovered in the back of my throat, but when I opened my mouth, I couldn’t bring myself to use it.
And I didn’t know
why
I couldn’t freaking say it. One word, and I had full confidence that Foster would end this right now. He didn’t have the right to
punish
me like I was some disobedient child. I could go home and chalk this up to something that’s not for me. Move on. I hadn’t even told my family I wasn’t coming home. I could simply revert to my original plan.
But picturing that scenario left me feeling hollow on the inside. Some strange part of me wanted to make it up to Foster for lying to him, wanted to show him that I could handle whatever he meted out. Even if I didn’t really know if I
could
handle it. If he made me do something in front of all these people . . .
My throat seemed to close up.
“Breathe, Cela,” Foster said, his voice a low, warm caress over my ear as his arm tightened around me.
“I’m trying,” I said in a strangled whisper.
Trust.
It was really what this lesson was about. I was at his mercy. He was making me walk on a narrow ledge with only his hand to keep my balance, and I had to put all of my faith in him in the moment—believe that he would only subject me to what he knew I could handle.
An old homily from church snuck into my brain at that last thought and I snorted—the comparison absurd considering the circumstances.
“You find something funny, angel?” Foster asked wryly.
“No, sir.” I gave a swift shake of my head, my nerves making me near delirious. “I’m sorry. Just a random, bizarro thought.”
“Oh, please,” he said, slowing our step and, based on the swish of air that blew over my face, opening a door. “Do share with the class.”
I blew out a breath and looked toward him, even though I couldn’t see anything through the silk over my eyes. “I was thinking this is oddly religious—the amount of blind faith required. Our priest used to talk about trusting God to only give you what you could manage.”
This time Foster’s voice held amusement. “If you’re comparing me to God, angel, I totally approve.”
A door shut somewhere behind us.
“So you decided to play after all?” another voice interjected, giving me a start.
My mouth clamped shut, and all humor vanished from my system. I crowded against Foster’s side, away from the other voice and approaching footsteps, like a mouse who’d heard a cat’s hungry meow.
Foster gave my hip a squeeze. “Yes. Change of plans.”
“Fantastic. Well, we have equipment set up on second level in the main space. It’s not a fully outfitted dungeon since we only bring in temporary stuff for these parties, but I think you’ll find it adequate. A few people have wandered up there already. We also have a few things set up in the banquet room down the
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