She couldn't help a coy smile as she alluringly, she hoped, reached up and dropped her keys through the crack. With a little wink, she reached behind her, never taking her eyes off the camera. She opened her passenger door and slid inside.
She had guessed correctly. No sooner had her door closed than her phone buzzed again. And again. And a third and fourth time before she had woken it to view the messages.
The instructions.
Bethany's heart raced. The corners of her mouth pulled up, and then down, as she absorbed the information on the screen.
She put her phone on the dash in front of her and looked around. Not seeing anyone, she braced her feet, lifted herself off the seat, and slid her sweats and panties over her hips and down her thighs. She let out a little gasp when her bare bottom made contact with the car seat. She had not been sitting there long enough to sufficiently warm the leather surface but, like jumping into a pool, it took but a moment to acclimate. She bent forward, awkwardly removing her shoes with her pants binding her legs together at the knees. Her belly fluttered thinking the restriction might be a hint to her body of what was to come.
Free of her shoes, she pushed the pants the rest of the way off, leaving them in a pile in the footwell. Only when she had straightened up did she remember the camera recording her every move with enough of a high angle to perhaps see her bare thighs. She smiled toward the glowing red dot, then checked and rechecked every window she could see in the neighborhood, searching for any sign of life that might prompt her to abort. But her only option other than following the instructions was to safe out and ask for her keys, something she really didn't want to do.
Steeling her resolve, her eyes constantly scanning neighboring windows, she pulled one arm then the other in from her sleeves. Brushing both against her puckered nipples under her shirt, it struck her that it wasn't cool enough to cause such a state. She smiled, hugging herself for a moment, then pushed the shirt up to her neck and over her head. She clutched it for a few last moments in front of her breasts before practically throwing it onto the pile at her feet lest she change her mind. She fumbled for the door catch and pulled.
The interior lights of the car came on, temporarily blinding her. In a panic, she jumped out of the car, closing it a little more loudly than intended. Though the evening was warm, the breeze was cool on her bare skin, a constant reminder she was naked. She squatted, using her car on one side, and Devon's SUV on the other to block any spectators she might have missed. Directly across the street stood the one house she couldn't hide from, and she wondered if any late night wanderers might be hidden behind its darkened windows.
She watched for several moments before deciding there was no movement. No unexpected — she couldn't quite call them unwanted — witnesses to her adventure. She peaked over the door and through the window into her car, spotting one of the two things she forgot in her haste. She yanked the door open, reached in to grab her phone off the dash, pushed the power lock button, and closed the door again before anyone could notice the second flash of interior lights.
It wasn't until the mechanical clenching of the door mechanism that the depth of her precarious state fully registered. She was squatting, naked, on a driveway in the middle of an upper middle-class suburb. A shiver of thrill rippled through her, involuntarily and suggestively arching her spine and nearly making her topple over. With her left arm against her car for stability, she couldn't help it as the fingers of her right glided over her hard nipple, down her belly to her shaved mound and beyond. The touch sent waves of pleasure through her, heightening her anticipation of whatever Devon had in store for her.
But she couldn't. Not yet. She didn't have permission. She pulled her hand away, resisting the urge, and wiped the moisture on her thigh. It was time to move. She would never actually get to Devon if she stayed hunkered down between the cars. She took a deep, calming breath that had little of the intended effect, stood, and trotted around the front of the car to the side of the garage. Only when she was past the threshold of the alley between houses did she stop to look back.
The landscaping rocks along the sides of the houses were sharp and jagged on her bare feet — more so than their daylight appearance had led her to believe — which left her stuck in the open between the buildings, unable to use either for cover. She kept moving toward the back of the house, worried now only about the wooded ravine in front of her and the neighbors to the left. One window on the second floor contained a light, but the others were dark. Both bore risk, though a lit room less so than a darkened one. Sure, someone was awake, but their vision wouldn't be able to penetrate the darkness between the houses.
She jumped, startled by the buzzing in her hand. Another message from Devon, now that she was out of his camera view. She looked at it, sheepishly biting her lip as she read through the next set of instructions. It would be a big step. More risk. Though she trusted Devon, she would have no recourse if something went wrong.
Creeping forward, she let her eyes adjust after the bright screen of her phone. She glanced up, wondering if the occupants of the lit room might have noticed, and then to the street, including every dark window in her appraisal. Her pulse raced with the prospect of being seen. Perhaps caught. What might someone do with her in her current state? She hastened her step swearing at twigs and uncomfortable clods of dirt as she made her way to the landing.
A flight of wooden stairs led up to the deck. Several of them creaked under her meager weight. They wouldn't last more than a couple of years before needing to be replaced, she thought. At the top of the stairs, she froze in a crouch. The sliding glass door leading from the lower deck into Devon's living room was right in front of her. But the drapes were closed, glowing only dimly from a small light within. She could detect no movement in the shadows. She had no idea where Devon was, though she assumed he was in his home office watching the feed from the camera. Or cameras, if she had to guess. She scanned the area for such devices but didn't see any.
Careful to avoid any enjoyment-ruining slivers, she padded across the lower deck and climbed the four steps to the upper. Here the window and sliding glass door looked into the kitchen dining area. They were slightly better lit than the livingroom, but no more occupied. She searched through the glass to glean some hint of later plans but found nothing. Looking to the left, out onto the deck proper, her heart skipped at identifying the implements of her kink.
There was a rectangular metal table with a glass top heavy enough to require two people to comfortably move. Usually in the middle, it was pushed against the railing. Chairs were shoved to the side as well, leaving an open space before the glass door. Snaking out from the substantial table was a length of chain. Under the table, in the glow of the dim kitchen light, she could make out a padlock anchoring the chain. On the other end of the chain, a pair of handcuffs. Resting atop the cuffs was a wide piece of shaped leather with a strap to hold it comfortably over her eyes.
Bethany shivered. This was almost too much.
Almost.
She glanced into the woods, into the kitchen, and back toward the no longer visible lit neighbor's room. Seeing nothing that would allow her to abort, she took the three steps toward Devon's preparations, turned toward the kitchen door, and knelt at the end of the chain. She spread her knees as wide as she could into the expected position of submission. Normally she would lay her hands on her thighs, or more often clasp them behind her head. This time, however, she reached behind her and picked up the blindfold, ensuring she could find the cuffs once it was on.
Pulling the soft leather over her eyes, she attempted another breath to counter the rapidly thumping heartbeat in her ears. It was even less effective than the last time. With her vision removed, she could only imagine what was to come. And the risk that someone unexpected may find her. The pounding increased as she searched her memory, thinking about the objects around her. Which of them might make noise. Which she might use to defend herself. Or free herself. Or throw against the glass to alert Devon.
Mustering her last bit of resolve, she reached behind her, found the cuffs, and secured them around her wrists. With the final ratcheting of the closure echoing in her mind, her senses were consumed by the sound of the wind, the rustling of leaves, the hooting of a distant owl. The world around her came alive in the moment she was completely at its mercy.
# # #
Mariah
—Would you like to go on an adventure?—
Mariah looked at the text message. Devon. She had known him most of her adult life and he was a trusted friend. However, recently, during one of their late-night chat sessions, she had learned they had yet one more thing in common. BDSM. Pandora's box had been opened and they would both have to live with the consequences.
She wasn't exactly sure how it came up. All she remembered was, in a slightly inebriated state, their conversation had drifted to porn. Neither were naive and the discussion wasn't at all judgmental. If she recalled correctly, they had started talking about eCommerce and how the porn industry, in many ways, led the way from a broader digital economy. It figured that horny men, and women, had been driven to find ways of giving away their money in order to see one another naked and in the throes of passion. It was after perhaps one too many drinks that Mariah had confided in Devon her interest in the kinkier side of the internet.
