The plane touched down at exactly 4:13 pm, according to Mindi's watch. She closed her eyes and sighed in relief. "Man was not meant to fly," she muttered to herself. By 5:06 pm, she was sitting in a smelly cab, listening to the driver curse at the rush hour traffic. At 6:00 pm on the dot, Mindi opened her front door and locked it behind her. Then she very carefully took off her watch and hurled it as hard as she could toward the back bedroom.
For two long weeks, she had been counting down the hours until this hellish trip would be over and she could return home. If not for her grandfather's heart attack, she would never have left. Mindi had pledged long ago that she would not return to her family's house, unless there had been a death and every minute of this visit had been a reminder of why she had made that vow in the first place.
Mindi's father was a staunch Republican, and his third wife, Estelle, had turned conservative values into a religious doctrine. Together, they had dissected Mindi's entire life and shoveled acid scorn onto every bleeding shred.
In their perfect world, Mindi was married to a wealthy older man who was considering a run for Congress. She had two extremely well-behaved and photogenic children, and served on a number of prominent committees.
But in the real world, Mindi was single, recently laid off, and according to her family, she had deplorable taste in friends. Her father and Estelle felt duty-bound to point out these deficiencies at every opportunity.
The only good thing to come out of the funeral and its aftermath was the surprise at the reading of Grandfather's will. A trust had been established in Mindi's name worth quite a bit of money. It would not support an extravagant lifestyle, but if she was careful, Mindi could live quite comfortably.
She wouldn't have to worry about finding a new job, at any rate. That had been a major worry, especially with the travel expenses draining her savings and the funeral delaying her job search. And with her family once again two thousand miles away, Mindi felt she should finally be able to relax.
Instead, her tension was only increasing. Or perhaps she was simply more aware of it now that the distractions were gone. There was something missing from her life, and had been for quite some time. The fact that she knew exactly what it was only made things worse.
Her family would say that she needed a husband. They had, in fact, told her so many, many times. And the truth was, they were partially right. Except that it was not a husband Mindi craved, but a partner, someone interested in the exotic games Mindi was dying to play.
Feeling frustrated, Mindi unpacked by dumping her suitcase out on the living room floor. She pulled off her travelling clothes and added them to the pile. One good thing about living alone, Mindi reflected, was that she could walk around naked whenever she felt like it. One bad thing was that there was nobody to appreciate it.
Mindi walked through the back bedroom, into the bathroom, intending to take a long shower. She took a moment to stare at herself in the mirror. She was pretty, she supposed, with good Irish features. Her hair was a wavy auburn and framed her face well. At twenty-six, she had a nice, youthful body, with classic feminine curves and a decent rack. All in all, it was a good package. It just needed a good scrubbing.
The phone rang just as she was turning on the water. Cursing, Mindi stalked back across the room to answer it. Caller ID showed it was Estelle. Mindi picked up the phone and all her frustration suddenly boiled over. "I just got home, Estelle. I'm still not married, Estelle. But I had a quickie during the stopover in Chicago, so you just might get lucky on the grandkid thing."
Mindi slammed down the phone and stepped back into the bathroom for her shower. It had been a childish outburst and solved nothing, but she felt a little better for having made it. She stood under the hot water and relaxed, dreaming of a more fulfilling life.
In her fantasies, Mindi had a lover. He was tall and sophisticated, handsome and confident. He was her lord and master, a man who controlled her completely. No subtle manipulations. No guilt trips. He imaginary master simply gave her orders and she obeyed.
Mindi dreamed of being tied down, helpless to free herself, absolved of all responsibility. Her master would take her, again and again, any way he wanted, and she could do nothing to prevent it.
He would come to her, blindfold her, tie her hand and foot to an old-fashioned four-post bed. For hours, he would keep her there. He would make a few phone calls, fix himself some dinner, maybe watch the news while she lay writhing in her bonds, struggling in vain to escape. From time to time, he would wet his cock in her mouth or dip it briefly in her pussy. If she made any protest at the treatment, he would gag her.
Mindi brought her hand down between her legs and eased one finger inside herself as she imagined this scenario. It was a fantasy that never failed to arouse her. There were variations on the theme, but the basics never changed. She was always the slave to a dominating master.
She stroked her clit, rubbing with one finger. With her other hand, she played with her tits. Once in a rare while, she used a vibrator. But tonight, she just needed a quick release. And when her fantasy lover grabbed her head, forced his cock deep in her mouth and spurted jets of hot come down her throat, Mindi was inspired to her own orgasm.
But when the climax faded, she was alone, unbound, and there was nothing in her mouth but her own tongue. Masturbation was a shallow and unsatisfying outlet, but a necessary part of her life. Some days, Mindi couldn't face the world without that relief available to her. And these past two weeks had been especially hard.
Mindi climbed out of the shower and started toweling off. She was calmer now, more in control. So when the phone started ringing again, she was able to answer politely, even knowing who was on the other end.
"Good evening, Father. I was just about to call you."
"You were very rude to your mother before, Mindi. I expect you to apologize."
"She caught me at a bad moment. Tell her I'm very deeply sorry. But please do not call her my mother."
"Mindi, she tries. I know you don't always get along, but-"
"She only goes through the motions. Estelle has no real interest in anything I say or do and you know it."
There was silence from the other line. Mindi could almost hear her father thinking, trying to find a way to deny her words without looking foolish and blind. Instead, he changed the subject. "Estelle was speaking to her father's law partner at lunch today. Apparently, he has a son who lives not too far from you."
"Goodnight, Father. I'm going to bed." Mindi set the phone down. She would not be the subject of Estelle's matchmaking.
Dropping the towel, Mindi stretched out on top of the blankets. It was too hot for covers and she never bothered with pajamas. Almost immediately, there was a knock at the door. Mindi growled in exasperation. Why couldn't people just let her alone? She was tempted to ignore it, but it was easier to be rude to family than to friends, or even strangers. "I'll be right there!" she called.
Quickly, she pulled a clean pair of panties from her dresser and slipped into them. Donning a robe, she tied the sash as she headed for the front room. She was reaching for the knob when someone unlocked the door from the outside.
When it opened, Katrina was standing there on the welcome mat, a concerned look on her pretty face. She was Mindi's next door neighbour, and a casual friend. They were not especially close. They had never gone shopping together or done a girl's night out, but sometimes they had coffee together in the mornings.
"I came to return your key," she said, stepping inside.
"Might as well hold onto it. In case of emergency. The plants look great, by the way. Thank you for looking after them."
"No problem," Katrina said, still looking a little worried and distracted. "Do you mind if I come in for a few minutes? I need to talk to you."
"Of course, come on in. Can I get you anything?" Mindi opened the door in invitation, refusing to be embarrassed by the pile of dirty clothes on the floor.
"Like what? You've been gone for two weeks. Your fridge is empty."
