Blyss (The Blyss Trilogy 1) - Page 17

The sudden urge to pee overtakes me, most likely from the IV pumping liters of God-knows-what through my body. I roll to my right side, sitting up and testing my agility, making sure I have no dizziness. Slowly, I pull myself up, stand on shaky legs, and proceed carefully toward the bathroom. Finishing my business, I amble from the bathroom, stopping momentarily to wash my hands at the sink. Staring back at myself in the mirror, I look as if I’ve been through a warzone. I splash some cool water over my face to help revive my weary body and take a sip of water from one of the plastic cups provided.

Roving my eyes over my body, taking stock of my injuries, I see the bruises decorating my neck in a black and blue pattern. Unconsciously, I find my fingertips softly tracing the outlines of handprints on my neck. Smirking at myself in the mirror, I recall it was worth every bit of pain to hear those men howl in agony. I put up one hell of a struggle, and I think about the man I bit. I would bet my last dollar he needed a ton of stitches. Bastard. Realizing I’m still in my pajamas from last night, I frown. I would really love a shower right now.

I dismiss the thought of a shower and turn from the mirror, searching for a possible escape route. The source of the dim light is seeping through the outside edges of burgundy designer drapes that line one entire wall. The drapes are encased at the top in a contrasting, patterned cornice board, complimenting the heavy curtains. Suddenly, I find myself rushing to the other side of the room in giddy excitement, hoping to expose the set of windows hidden behind the curtains that will render my freedom.

My mind races, thinking of different ways I could make a distress signal to someone outside the large windows, in hopes I can be discovered and rescued. My hands roam frantically through the thick material, looking for the curtain pull. Finally, I find the pull rod located in the center of the drapes and grab it with shaky hands. Sliding back the massive amount of fabric to the side, I feel a silly grin spread across my lips.

Slowly, my grin fades once the curtains are fully pulled back. My face drops as my eyes widen in mortification. What I find before me utterly stops my heart from beating in my chest as I stand with my feet frozen to the floor. There are no windows, no rays of sunshine trying to sneak into the imprisoned cell to offer me hope.

I hold my breath as my eyes scan before me an entire concrete and brick wall. It taunts me with imitation-sunshine. Fluorescent lights are lined along the edges of the wall that’s not even a foot away from my face, outlining where a window frame should be. I swallow back bile from my clenching stomach as I come to a conclusion: I can almost accept this wall being all brick with the illusion of sunlight seeping past the edges of the curtains, but what I cannot accept is I see the entire brick wall holds so much more. My eyes flick back and forth over a wide array of items spread over the length of the entire wall. There is a huge, X-framed contraption that’s bolted to the wall, and I tilt my head in confusion. I can’t make heads or tails of the thing, seeing it has thick leather restraints at every end. What in the hell is this? I feel my eyes widen in horror as they roam over the rest of the wall.

A couple of large, locked, custom-made, clear Plexiglass cases are hanging on different parts of the wall. Leaning forward, I squint to make sure I’m seeing this right. What is that? A whip? Other funky-shaped items of all shapes and sizes are displayed, hanging neatly on hooks like pool cues on a rack. Everything seems to be exhibited in a planned, orderly fashion. I step closer and raise my hand, using my finger to tentatively touch one of the glass cases. Curiosity gets the best of me, so I open it and trace along the outline of a long whip. I inhale the strong scent of leather and immediately think of Travis. I don’t want to think of Travis this way, so I won’t. One particular crop catches my eye. It has friggin’ jewels embedded in the handle! Some of these items look like deflated pom-poms. There are too many objects to try and figure out what their purposes are. Paddles, ropes, gags…I step away from the sight before me as uneasy feelings begin to wash over my body. I shake my head in disbelief. I’m not prepared for any of this, and I never will be. As if I’m standing under a waterfall, goose bumps rain down over my entire body, cascading from the top of my head and ending at my toes.

Tags: J.C. Cliff The Blyss Trilogy Erotic
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