She had to be crazy. Absolutely crazy to do something like this. It was dangerous. It was foolish and obscene. But the very thought made her heart race. She felt alive and sexy and spontaneous, like she hadn't felt in years. She had to do it, and quickly, before her better judgment sealed her back into the dungeon of a stagnant marriage.
All because the roof needed new shingles. That was her chance, perhaps the last she'd have for years. She called and set up a time with
him
, the man she coveted so dearly, and he came that Friday leading a three-man crew. His was the most handsome face she'd ever seen. He was broad, chiseled from his line of work. He towered as he stood before her, short brown hair matching his eyes. When she got home from work she brought a pitcher of water to them. Even the September sun could beat down, and from the moment he used his shirt to dab sweat from his face, she knew. She knew it was time to resurrect an old fantasy, and she wanted him there with her.
Of course, none of that made it any less crazy.
Some rotted plywood put them behind schedule, and they had to put off installing the new shingles. They had other appointments to keep. He said he'd come by himself on Saturday to finish the job. She said that was perfect. The perfect chance. She resolved to put her fantasy into action.
Claire rose early that morning and ate a full breakfast. She took a long shower, reveling in the hot water streaming down her lithe body, washing the soap off her tender skin. She shaved her legs and pussy, save a small strip which ran right up the middle. After patting herself with the towel, she blow-dried her long auburn hair and then strolled, naked, to the sun-drenched kitchen of her home. On the table she placed a sealed envelope in plain sight and then walked over to a door. Opening it into darkness, Claire pressed a small red dot on the wall and the garage began to open, revealing a palate of boxed shingles that the roofer had placed there yesterday. Then she walked into the living room, where she a large trunk already waited on the floor.
Opening it, Claire revealed a secret collection of sordid items, and placed them on the table. Her heart pounded in her chest as she neatly arranged bundles of rope, straps, chains, and toys, knowing that each and every one might be used before the day was over. Thoughts of them excited and scared her, but none so much as the thought of piling it all back into the trunk, grabbing the envelope, and pretending she'd never thought up this outrageous plan. Angels and demons battled over her will. The demons won.
Briskly, Claire grabbed a bundle of rope and headed stairs. The living room ceiling opened up to a wooden banister for the second floor den. Claire kneeled before one of the central, stronger posts. After tying a small loop in the rope, too small for her hand to fit through, she fed a carefully measured length of rope over the ledge and tied the rest to the banister.
Back downstairs, a single strand of white rope now dangled above Claire's head as she gathered the rest of the items she needed. Ankle cuffs soon adorned her feet and she fed the open ends of a pair of handcuffs through the loop of rope above her. She then grabbed the last three items she needed and sat on the floor before the rope.
First was a metal bar about thirty inches long. Claire spread her legs on the white carpet and linked each end of the bar to her ankle cuffs. She then struggled to her feet and, balancing awkwardly, picked up the other two items. First she pressed the large leather blindfold over her eyes. Tying it tight pressed thick foam pads against her eyelids, preventing her from opening them. Her world became pitch black.
Next came a harness gag, black straps with a deep red silicone ball. Nervous exhales fogged the surface as she held it to her lips. Claire refused to hesitate, and pressed the large orb between her teeth. She'd bought this ball precisely because it tested her, because she'd never look forward to wearing it. She wanted something that made her feel helpless, and tugged at the strap behind her neck until the it bit into her cheeks and stretched her lips, fought the chin strap until the ball smothered her tongue, and tightened the other strap over her the top of her head until her jaw gripped it like a vise. Her voice was reduced to incoherent moans, just like she hoped.
Blindly, Claire reached up and found the cuffs dangling above her. She could undo everything up to this point. She could take it all back. But once those cuffs clicked into place, her fate would no longer be her own. The feel of cold steel electrified her, and Claire took the plunge. The handcuffs clicked.
And from the second she pulled at her hands, and found them locked above her, Claire grew nervous. She was alone in her home, bound and naked, with the roofer scheduled to arrive at nine. When was nine, anyway? Why hadn't she checked the clock?
The seconds ticked by. Claire balanced precariously on the balls of her spread feet. Maybe he'd just work outside and never come in. Had she closed the curtains? The key to the cuffs was on the table, and Claire had no way to reach it and free herself. Why hadn't she left herself a way out? God, this had to be the most foolish thing she'd ever done! But then why was she so wet?
Adrenaline is a funny thing.
***********************************
Rick pulled his truck into the driveway. He was already sweaty; a contract with some self-storage units outside town didn't need to obey noise ordinances, so he'd been out since 5 AM already. But a residential job was easy in comparison. Rick's crew were off on other jobs to keep their schedule, and he got to spend the day here alone. It would be like a mini-vacation.
Still, he was thirsty and the water bottle in his truck had grown warm in the sun. Surely Claire wouldn't mind if he popped in for a glass before starting. As promised yesterday, Claire had opened the garage so he could get at the boxes of shingles. Walking right past them, he gingerly opened the door to the house.
"Anyone home?" Rick called, "just grabbing a glass of water!"
No answer. Rich took a glass to the sink, but then he spotted a lone envelope on the otherwise clear kitchen table. Something was written on the outside in curly letters:
If Found...
Intrigued, Rick picked it up. It wasn't sealed, but it had been sprayed playfully with perfume. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and immediately forgot about his water. Written on the outer face of the paper:
If you see this, you've found a special fantasy of mine. If you'd like to share it with me, join me in the other room. I'm waiting for you.
Rick looked around, but discerning where she wanted him to go wasn't exactly difficult. Work boots thundering, Rick quickly came upon the living room and found an absolutely stunning woman, wearing nothing but restraints. His eyes widened at the sight. Her naked body swayed slightly. She had clearly heard his approach, but she had been blindfolded and gagged and couldn't address him. She breathed heavily through her nose. A faint moan broke the silence as she tried to assess a situation she could not control.
Rick looked at her, and at the collection of restraints and sex toys laid out on the coffee table. His first instinct was to rush over and free her, but he remembered the note in his hand. He unfurled the page.
As you can see, I'm already helpless. But I don't want you to free me. Not until you want to.
My fantasy is to spend all day as a captive plaything for someone else, and I want that person to be you. Tie me, reward me, punish me, use me. Do anything you like with me. I'm yours.
My one and only request: please keep me gagged. I've asked you for what I want. There's nothing else I wish to say. If you have other uses for my lips...well, just put the gag back when you're done.
