This is my first time submitting and really writing about anything of this nature. I'd love some thoughtful input and recommendations.
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Vincent Carter was no hacker. Far from it in any way, shape, or form. Though well into his twenties his technical aptitude was that of a sixty-five year old grandmother. Which made it all the more surprising when he stumbled onto the site.
It was well past midnight and he was still trying to upload a photo from his recent family vacation. Google had proven useless, every well known upload site requesting a myriad information to set up an account. He was getting frustrated. He didn't care where it was uploaded as long as it was uploaded. After entering his search results of "Image Upload" he finally cursed and clicked far into the search results to page twenty-six. He was wandering far from the reputable sites of the every day surfer, not that he knew it as he clicked the first result at the top of the page.
His darkened bedroom flashed briefly as a bright white page loaded, crisp black lettering and an upload box appearing on his screen. Now he was getting somewhere. Finally something that looked easy! He clicked browse and went to select his photo. A shot of a boat and his uncle Roy holding up a fish Vincent had no desire to know more about. The photo was labeled "PC23567.jpg" a number randomly generated by his camera. Briefly Vincent considered renaming it to something more descriptive, but decided 'screw it' It was late and that was far to complicated. He nodded in satisfaction and hit "Upload".
The browser hung. Then the Screen flashed. What appeared on his monitor only confused him further.
"Password accepted. Welcome, Valued Customer!" The only option was to hit continue.
Customer? Something wasn't right, but he hit the button anyways. All he wanted was his stupid photo.
Dozens of images loaded. Girls. Beautiful girls. Some of them nude.
Vincent blinked and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. What on earth just happened? Before him shown a colorful collection of images. Girls of every nationality in lingerie and sultry poses. He felt his cock stir, all thoughts of Uncle Roy's catch left his mind as he began to browse. He'd looked up porn before but this was different. He wasn't sure exactly what it was he stumbled on, only that he liked it a lot.
Half way down the page she caught his eye.
She was thin, long black hair, pale skin and dark blue eyes. The girl was wearing a cream colored chemise and was lounging languidly on some sort of couch. She had a fulness to her cheeks and lips that reminded him of a pre-Raphaelite painting. She was intoxicating. Her name was Anna. He clicked, wanting to see more of her.
What he found was an order screen with a select number of "preview" images. In each photo the girl was wearing something different. Lingerie. An evening dress. A cheerleader costume. An oversized sweater. She seemed happy, though one shot seemed oddly candid. The girl looked rushed, distracted, as she stepped into a cab. The photo was distant, almost grainy. The final image made his breath catch. The girl was looking up at the camera, flat on her back, naked and retrained to a bed. Thick black ropes holding her in place. Her cheeks were rosy and the look in her eyes showed...need. It was almost too much as he let his hand caress himself through his shorts. What he wouldn't give to have a girl like that.
He tore his gaze from the picture, looking at the rest of the page.
"Dear Valued Customer, You have seven rentals remaining."
Rentals? Oh hell yes.
Somewhere in his head a rational voice tried to reason with him. "This isn't your account, Vincent. You shouldn't be here" the winning side didn't care. The owner of this account clearly had a rental or two to spare. He began to fill out the order form. If this was a porn DVD he had to see it. He had to see more of her.
Aside from inputting the delivery address there were two additional options. Theme and Format.
Theme? He looked over his options.
"Sultry, Classic, Cheerleader, Co-ed, Submissive...."
He looked at the preview images again, the photo of the girl tied to the bed, silently begging.
He'd never thought of himself as kinky, though he'd heard the women from his office cooing over what ever Grey Shades novel was popular with the sheltered housewife type. He had heard hushed chatter around the water cooler about ropes and being submissive. It piqued his interest mildly but If that was what this was, he was firm about his selection.
Format? Only two options listed here.
"Formatted, Raw"
Vincent had no idea what that meant, he could only assume it referred to the DVD. Formatted was what disks had to be, right? He made his second selection and hit "Submit."
"Thank you, Valued Customer. Your order will be rushed and should be received in one business day. Please anticipate delivery between the hours of 7pm & 8pm by private courier. Your rental is scheduled for twenty-four hours. Read the special handling instructions before playing. "
Vincent gave a frustrated groan and sat back in the chair, his member still hard.
"It will be worth it." the winning side of his brain told him..
A day seemed like such a long time away but he had to give them credit for the rush order. That was customer service.
There wasn't enough coffee in the world to keep Vincent focused on his work Friday morning. He had gotten very little sleep. He got himself off three times over the course of the night but every time he pictured Anna he'd become hard again. By the time lunch finally rolled around he found himself hovering near the water cooler.
The resident hens had gathered with their patterned coffee mugs to gossip. It was a lunch time tradition. Vincent stood nearby, attempting to play the part of the uninterested wallflower, while straining to overhear their conversation. He couldn't get close enough to catch it all and instead was only able to catch snippets when they raised their voices in shrill excitement.
"And Jenny's gonna have a baby."
"About time I always figure she was..."
"Didn't you loan her the book?"
"I predict a baby boom nine months from now."
"I don't blame them. It was HOT"
"SHHH!"
Finally! Now they were getting to the good stuff! He sipped his fifth cup of coffee, leaning closer casually.
"I don't see the problem with it. I'd let a man like that tie me up any day."
"Harold is such a bore, not into bondage at all."
"Shh, Rachel! Not so loud!"
"Whose going to hear us? Besides - Lunch is over I'll see you gals at the bar tonight. "
There was a peal of laughter as they parted ways, Vincent left disappointed and resigned himself to his cubicle. The hours crawled by and seemed to get slower the more he looked at the clock. This was ridiculous. He needed a distraction.
"Damn the IT Department. " he thought as googled the terms "Submissive & Bondage"
The next four hours were gone in an instant. Vincent briefly wondered if he'd risked his job as he signed out of his terminal. He didn't care. He'd spent hours reading about BDSM and hours hard as a rock. If the DVD contained anything he'd read about online, he was going to have a very good night.
Oh yes, it would be worth it.
By the time 7Pm rolled around he was in pure agony. Any time now the door bell would ring. He could almost feel the weight of the DVD in his hand. His mind was running wild after all the research he'd done.
Maybe they'd show her hanging by her wrists like one site described? Naked and vulnerable. Swaying from the chains. Her legs just barely parted. Her cunt expo-
The bell finally rang. Vincent jumped to his feet and rushed to the door.
Some folks have certain expectations as to what a courier looks like, the man in front of Vincent was not it. While he had expected a sweaty bike courier, he didn't expect a tall man in an Armani business suit.
"Sir." the man said curtly, offering Vincent a slim leather binder. The name "Anna" was printed in gold on it's front. It looked expensive.
"Uh. Thanks." Vincent took the binder from the mans hand. The courier turned his back, waving to the large white van that sat previously unnoticed in Vincent's driveway. Two burly men in blue jumpsuits got out and began to unload a crate. A very, very, large crate.
"You will remember from you last rental, Sir, to read the special handling instructions. She'll have no limits but no permanent marks are to be left. Please return her as clean as she arrived. " He said over his shoulder as he watched unloaders wheel the crate into Vincent's living room.
Her? What on earth was that?
The courier handed Vincent a document to sign, reciting more terms and conditions in the process. Vincent's signature was nothing more then a distracted scrawl.
"....and remember you will be billed for any damage or breech of terms. Everything appears to be in order. We'll expect her to be ready for return promptly at 7pm tomorrow evening. Enjoy your rental."
The courier and unloaders retreated to their van. Leaving Vincent alone in his living room with the large box.
The crate itself was similar to the type professional bands use to haul their equipment. Large and black, hundreds of latches, and silver metal trim to protect the corners from being scuffed. It appeared to open like an old time steamer trunk.
He looked down at the binder in his hands, opening it.
