When thinking back to the night before, one rarely remembered the moment when sleep arrived, or even several moments prior. It all slips out of the thoughts of yesterday, unable to make it out of short-term memory before the brain crumbles it up and pitches it to make room for dreams. This is especially true for anyone whose life didn't feature enough variety to make each day feel distinct. Wake up, go to work, go to bed, etc. The sort of life where seeing a wild turkey in a parking lot would be something you'd tell your friends about.
Lena's life was sort of like that. Same things most days. She didn't remember turning her game console off before falling asleep. From her sleeping position cradled in the belly of an oversized bean bag chair, she could reach the purple power switch with her toe. But she had no memory of doing this. The little CRT television showed its noise pattern that indicated that it wasn't getting a video signal. Thankfully, it wasn't accompanied with loud audio static like other CRT models.
She sat up, the tiny beads within her bean bag chair shifting around as she moved. Sleeping on a bean bag chair probably wasn't recommended, but that's how Lena did it, nestled deep in the polystyrene filler. Maybe others would find it hard to sleep this way if they hadn't worn themselves out playing games until who-knows-when-a-clock in the morning.
One would definitely find it hard to sleep on this vinyl bean bag without the old-fashioned granny square blanket she'd covered it with. The vinyl could feel cool to the touch, but after sleeping through a warm night, her sweat would collect on it and the vinyl would cling to her. The blanket helped pull it away like thirsty hand-crafted gauze.
And yet... Lena still felt a patina of mostly dried sweat all over her body. Living out in the desert, she was used to the hot weather. It was one of the reasons why staying up late was so inviting; it would finally cool enough to sit in her second-story bedroom and play games comfortably without air conditioning.
But waking up and already being sweaty... she would almost go back to shoveling snow. Not that Lena had been asked to do that very often in her youth. At five-foot-two, slight, and in possession of three older brothers, she was only called out of the reserves to tackle the most insurmountable snow drifts. But such a sight was a long way away from here.
It was tough sleeping through this sort of heat. Even if she stayed up well past a normal bedtime, eventually the rising temperature would force her awake. It was enough to make someone shed all their clothes and sleep in the nude.
Which, of course, Lena had done.
In truth, Lena was wearing socks, as she was seldom without them in the house. She could slide around on the house's extensive hardwood flooring and linoleum like a figure skater. Sometimes, she would borrow a pair of socks from her roommates and was astonished at how much bigger their feet were than hers. It was never hard picking her socks out if they got mixed in with the communal laundry.
Lena found her glasses folded next to the bean bag chair, another thing she had no memory of doing. She put them back on and rolled off the chair, nothing nearby to push off it with her arms. She pressed the TV's front-facing power button with an extended toe, the storm of white dots vanishing into nothing.
If only it had been that easy to vanquish show at home... maybe she wouldn't have left.
Lena crossed the hall of her bedroom and entered the upstairs bathroom. Smacking her lips and squinting at her reflection, she realized she was probably dehydrated, a common problem out in the desert. She took a nearby cup and filled it from the tap. It probably wasn't meant for drinking, but that didn't stop her. By the time she has brushed her teeth, Lena felt the urge to urinate.
Which she did, standing in front of the toilet.
Lena was small and slender, but she belonged to the very rare variety of women born with both sets of genitals: the futanari. Between her legs was a penis that some might call humongous, but Lena always thought it was mostly just because the rest of her was so small.
Once the whoosing sound of the toilet flush had faded away, Lena realized... it was quiet. The house was normally filled with activity from her roommates. Idle chatter, footsteps, televisions or music, even the sounds of lovemaking, or at least aggressive kissing. None of that was currently present. The house was eerily quiet... in fact, it was silent but for wind blowing through open windows in nearby rooms.
Lena descended the stairs and entered the main living room, connected to a kitchen without an intervening wall. There were tracks on the ceiling that indicated there may have been one of those old-fashioned plastic partition walls separating these rooms a long while ago. She didn't know how old this house was, but it was old enough that some of the outlets didn't have a ground slot. This was why her TV and game console were up in that room on the second floor. The only other modern outlet was in the living room, where the HDTV was plugged in, along with a power strip with many phone chargers dangling from it like the legs of an octopus.
There was nobody there. Nobody watching television, nobody eating breakfast or whatever meal would be appropriate at this time of day, nobody having a bonk on the couch. Lena had never once seen this room completely empty.
"Hello?" She called out, slightly froggy. She coughed and cleared her throat, walking towards the kitchen and the boot tray near the rear entrance where most of her roommates would leave their shoes when they felt like sliding around the way she often did.
The boot tray only had one pair of shoes: her own well-worn gray running shoes.
"Where the hell is everyone?" She said to nobody.
Lena went into the basement, welcoming the cooler, if musty, air. She thought maybe the heat had grown so extreme that they had all climbed down here to escape it like catfish climbing out of the water and into the shade under a dock. Nobody was down there, either. Both the washer and drier were inactive. There was no activity but for the click and hum of the water heater.
Walking back upstairs, Lena got her shoes on and went outside. Maybe she had woken up during a Walk sendoff or something. She shielded her eyes from the bright sun, leaving the rest of her unguarded and unclothed, as she went out the back storm door. The back had a concrete deck with some a folding beach chair, always useful for tanning. None of it was occupied. She walked around the side of the house, out to the front porch, in all its slightly collapsed and sun-parched glory.
Nothing. Nobody.
She was running now, towards the garage. Maybe someone took the car for an errand or groceries or something. Maybe there was an emergency and someone was being driven to the nearest hospital... where would that even be? Probably in Raton or something...
Lena cupped her hands against the garage window to look inside. The car was still there.
Being naked in a familiar place... that nightmare normally involved being surrounded by people, didn't it? For someone as used to casual nudity as her, perhaps this was the appropriate variation. All undressed up and nobody to gawk.
But was she really alone?
Lena went back upstairs and checked the numerous bedrooms one by one. Most of them didn't have 'beds,' but mattresses resting on the floor. Her own little corner of the room was poised next to a mattress that saw lots of use... even when she was sitting there playing. Many times the partners would beg her to join them. Once in a while, she did, but mostly... she just kept playing, occasionally glancing up at key moments in the reverie.
In the last bedroom, there were light-blocking curtains... and a full twin-sized bed with sheets, a metal frame and header. It looked like it might have been as old as this house.
On the bed... there was a woman tied up.
She was blindfolded. Her hands were tied together behind a pole in the frame. Her feet appeared to be tied together with zip ties, but not connected to the bed. The woman was a futa like Lena, her own member resting unrestricted on her thigh. With her legs connected, her body had the gentle curves and narrow middle of a violin.
"Oh my God!" Lena scurried over to this woman's rescue. She pulled the blindfold off her eyes and past her short blonde, almost 'pixie-cut' length hair. 'Blindfold' might have been too hysterical of a description, as it was a commercial slumber mask.
The restrained woman groaned, pinching her eyes closed. She rolled her body a bit like a worm, taking in a deep breath and opening her blue eyes. She looked up to the woman leaning over her, a pretty and petite Asian futa with her hair in a slightly disorganized ponytail.
