Release Me

Part 28

I wanted to ask about Samantha, but the echo of Dominick's words raced through my mind, intertwining with Tanner's revelation like serpents in a restless dance. Hands, impersonal and firm, pulled on my wrists, stretching my arms wide until the cold metal cuffs bit into my flesh. They attached a spreader bar to my ankles, the metal cool and unyielding against the bare skin, and then fastened it securely to the cross. While seemingly unnecessary, the restraints ensured I'd toil to maintain my precarious balance on the vertiginous heels. If this was the first time I'd experienced these sensations, then none of it would make sense, but I'd long grown used to the feel of a clip hooking into a ring as it sent a soft vibration through a wooden or metal frame.

When the hands disappeared, I leaned forward, glad cool wood met my skin. My head sagged, and I worked to settle. There was no doubt this was some kind of test, and right now, I was failing it. Muffled voices, indistinct yet disconcertingly close, moved all around me, their whispers an eerie soundtrack to my isolation in the oppressive darkness.

I focused on my breathing until I found the meditative state Dominick always coaxed me to find before we played. Here, in this stark place of my confinement, the noise of the world grew distant and thin. I evaluated my body for issues, noticing the chilling numbness creeping into my skin as circulation was challenged, or the fiery pin pricks born of a position held too long, every twinge amplified in the enveloping silence. When they happened, I shifted to relieve them. They were never gone, but the general mitigation was manageable.

There was no way to tell how many people were in the room, or how long I was bound in place. Here, time was meaningless. It was better to relax into the situation. Patience was a dominant virtue, and making an exhibit wait was a simple game. I either played along, wracking my body and fighting the bonds, or I surrendered.

"So this is the one that's caused so much trouble," a woman said from somewhere around me.

"Yes, my Regent." Parker's voice rang out from the opposite side, each word clear and deliberate; he seemed to have stepped closer to ensure I couldn't miss his response.

"Tell me about this exhibit. What are these labeled implements?"

"Her transgressions. I call this one 'Pain'. The idea is simple. A member browses the various labels and chooses an implement. On the table beneath it is a number and a brief description. As we know, through pain we are cleansed so we may find pleasure."

"Inventive."

"Thank you, my Regent."

"Why is she wearing the house robe of a contractee if she left the Society, and how did you get her consent for participation?"

"That, my Regent, is a bit more complicated. This one is in the grey. She was covered during a meeting with the head of her house, prior to being presented."

"Interesting. She is covered in the colors and symbols of the very house she abandoned."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry and constricted, as I forced myself not to yank futilely at my bonds while they spoke about me as if I were an object. The inside of the mask grew damp, slick with the salty tears I could no longer hold back.

"It was an unintentional, but ironic, twist. I think it adds to the symbolism of the exhibit."

The woman laughed, and I blew out a quiet breath.

"At the top of the show, I want you to announce a version of what you've told me. Then cut her robes to shreds and remove the protection she once enjoyed. I presume she made her choice of her own free will?"

"Yes, my Regent."

"Then we will abide by it. Tonight we will cut the ties that bind her, and set her free."

"I expected Parker to correct her assumption, but he didn't. This spectacle was nothing more than a farce—a public declaration of my dismissal by a Regent's decree. I'd violated the rules. My refusal to final the paperwork to avoid a private audience with the Regent to explain myself was now a public humiliation.