The Game

I woke the next morning to the annoying sound of the phone ringing. I stumbled to the side of the bed, my face falling in direct sunlight, and I cursed my laziness in not closing the curtains properly the night before. I finally grabbed the phone, pulled it to my ear, and grunted. A deep voice responded briefly.

"Letterbox."

I responded intelligently. "Huh?" The phone clicked in my ear in response, and I lay back on the bed, trying to get my eyes to work again, along with my brain.

A few minutes later, I figured out what the call meant. Then I realised that I'd better retrieve whatever it was, before someone else did. I jumped from the bed and threw on my robe. As I raced out of the house and down the path, I realised I was acting a little strangely. Slowing down, I walked calmly to the letterbox, and opened it, not quite knowing what to expect.

Inside was a small envelope. Plain white, sealed, with my name computer-printed on the front. I resisted the temptation to open it, put it in my robe pocket, and walked up the path, and into the house.

Back in my room, I sat on the bed, and stared nervously at the envelope. Well, nervously, but with more than a touch of arousal. This game was turning me on more than I would have believed. Finally I tore it open, and pulled out the single piece of white paper inside. It was computer printed as well, plainly.

I can pretend it was accidental as long as I like, but the fact is, before I read the words, I opened my robe, exposing my breasts to the heat of the morning sun, and my thighs to the clutch of my eager hand.

As my fingers felt between the suddenly slippery folds, and nonchalantly caressed me, I started to read.

The 'day off' is over. The game continues.

Oh, God. I needed two fingers, and stroked myself more deliberately.

11AM This morning.

Quick glance at the clock. Little bit of time. I squeezed my fingers between my thighs.

Drama Department theatre.

Drama? Oh! Wriggle, wriggle.

Prop room behind the stage.

I've been in there. Warm and musty. Crowded with costumes and stuff. Mmmm...

Wear anything you want.

Oh, God, just this robe, maybe? Why am I so wet?

But take it off when you get there

Off? Oh, fuck! That's bad! And I want to! I was frantic now, and pummelled myself with my fingertips...

Yes, all of it.

No! Oh God, yes!

And then lie down on the bed.

I could barely read. My body was on fire. I was horrified, and ecstatic.

Birch

I read the last word, and fell back on the bed, dropped the paper, and pulled my legs up. I spread my knees and attacked my wetness with one hand, while the other dealt severely with my breasts. It only took a few seconds before I came. It was lovely, hard, and incredibly fast.

I lay there, panting and sweating, and tried to calm myself down. It only partially worked, and eventually I pulled myself up from the bed, and ran for the security of the shower.

---

I was ready with plenty of time to spare, but then sat around, worrying. I'd been stunned so many times in the last few days by what I would actually do, that I didn't know quite what to think. Eventually I picked up my backpack, and left the house.

I took my time with the walk, strolling through the park, and, ridiculously enough, relaxing.

The Drama Department was hidden away in an older part of the school; brick buildings shaded by large trees. The department had originally been on the property of an old church that had burnt down. The church sold the land and remaining real estate and moved to somewhere more sensible. The school was smart enough to adapt rather than destroy, just for a change, and as a result the drama students had a facility with more character than you could reasonably expect. The prop room had been converted over and over, walls added and removed through the years, and the whole area was now a rabbit warren of small hallways, cubby-holes, and bizarrely shaped spaces.

I might have relaxed on the way over, but I was nervous again as I approached the entrance to the building. Not

just

nervous though, if you know what I mean.

I had to walk down the hallway beside the theatre to get to the prop room, and my shoes squeaked on the tiled floors as I passed, echoing weirdly. I'd been here before, but only during classes. It was very quiet today. Spooky.

Opening the arched doors at the end of the hallway, I stepped into a carpeted area, and the noise level from my walking dropped. Of course, that meant I couldn't hear anyone else, either. I wandered through another set of doors into the prop room, and was stunned again by both the smell and the colours.

Racks covered the walls, and stood in what seemed random arrangements on the floors, all filled with costumes on hangers. Various pieces of clothing donated or created over the years, for countless productions, some of which might even have had some class. The costumes were arranged in styles, but colours clashed everywhere, and my eyes were unable to relax as I kept thinking I saw people, only to find they were empty pieces of clothing, haphazardly hung.

The smell was almost impossible to explain, but I liked it. A mixture of paint and other chemicals, materials for the costumes, old sweat and various attempts to disguise it, and the lingering old church smell. Rich wooden beams, oiled and cared for, at least until we took the buildings over.

Other than paranoid imaginings, I still couldn't see anyone in the room, and I wandered about, meandering through the haphazard aisles until I stumbled across an area that someone has spent some time preparing. There was a largish bed almost hidden in the array of clothing. I knew it was for me, because there was one of those photographs on it. Of me. In the skirt. Oh, God.

I grabbed the picture and stuffed it in my backpack before sitting on the edge of the bed, and wondering if I could really go through with it. A part of me wanted to. Another part was horrified. What if someone should come in and discover me? What if this was all a trick, designed to embarrass me? In the end, I decided to try to divorce myself from all my doubts, and just think about what the note had said, and how it made me feel.

I stood, just barely sure enough to continue, and pulled my shirt over my head. Jeans were next, and I stood there in bra and panties, still not certain. I realised then that I had some leeway within the instructions, and turned back to the bed, planning to lift the covers, and climb underneath. I needn't have bothered. The bed was really just a bare imitation, built for some no-doubt badly envisaged play at some point, and the covers were permanently attached to the frame.

I stood for a while longer, just wondering, and then decided that I had to go through with it. I couldn't stand it if I backed out now. I forced a smile on my face, reached back and unclipped my bra, releasing my breasts as fearlessly as I could. Stepping out of the panties took a little more courage, but I managed. I convinced myself that if I had to, I could pull one of these costumes on fairly quickly.

Somehow,

being

naked wasn't nearly as bad as

getting

naked, and I felt more comfortable having got the thing over and done with. I looked around the room some more, poking at the costumes and waiting for something to happen. I even tried on a couple of hats before I realised that maybe someone was still waiting for me. I hadn't completed all the instructions quite yet.

I sat back on the bed, and pulled myself into the middle of it. Having run out of excuses, delays, and options, I lay down in the centre of the mattress, on my back, and forced my muscles to relax. I looked up into the high rafters for a moment, wondering at how they had managed to

ever

clean them. I didn't see much though, because that was when I caught a glimpse of someone out of the corner of my eye, and sat up, startled, and trying to cover myself.

It was a vampire. No, really. A classy suit with a large cape. Not just any vampire either. This was a good likeness of Bela Lugosi at his best. I was intrigued more than scared when Dracula turned towards the door before I could see much more, and flicked a switch. That was when the lights went out.

Oh, God. I was okay until then, but now I was alone with a vampire, and I couldn't even

see

. I couldn't believe how stupid I'd been, but I stayed still, terrified and excited. The prop room was basically in the middle of the old building, and the numerous renovations had left it with no windows. When the lights were off in here, it was

very

dark, no matter what time of day.

Everything was silent now, for a moment, and then I heard rustling, as the figure made its way back towards me. I just sat, petrified.

Eventually, I felt some movement on the mattress, and a hand reached out to me, and touched my foot. I didn't relax, but I refrained from screaming. As my foot was gently tugged towards the edge of the bed, I couldn't stay silent any longer.

"Hey! Please, stop for a moment. Listen, please just..."

The only response was a quietly hissed "Shhhhhh..."

"Look, I'm scared here. Please."

A gloved hand covered my mouth gently, after stumbling in the dark a little. I assumed this must be Birch, and that relaxed me for some reason, though I should have been even more worried. This doesn't mean I wasn't still thinking of sharp teeth sinking into my throat.

I let my other foot be dragged out until my legs were straight, my feet hanging just over the bottom of the bed. I was still shaking with fear, but I felt I had to let this happen.

Birch surprised me then, by kissing my ankles. It was unexpectedly nice, and I sighed, relaxed a little to the inevitable, and lay back. The kisses made a slow path up my legs, hands parting my knees a little to allow the kisses to be more widely spread. I'm not sure I can even explain how I felt while this was going on. I just

did

it.

As the kisses worked their way up past my knees, I was definitely getting turned on, and my muscles relaxed a little, allowing Birch to part them further. By the time the lips were on my thighs, I was desperate, and all my fears had been banished.

My hands began to trace over the rest of my body of their own accord, caressing and tweaking as seemed appropriate at the time. Strangely enough, the fear of sharp teeth had transformed itself to a feeling of intense pleasure on and around my throat, and I worshipped my skin with my fingers as Birch continued the main assault further south.

I realised, as all of this was happening, that I didn't know who this shadowy figure really was, and this just intensified the feeling. Birch's tongue and lips were thoroughly connected to me now, lifting and sliding across my most intimate parts, and stumbling around my clitoris, with no real pattern. My arousal was going through the roof as my fears dissolved. My mind concentrated on the feelings, and stopped asking questions.

After a while, the attentions between my thighs became a little more coordinated; fingers, lips and a tongue all working in unison. An image flashed through my mind of myself, lying just like this, being serviced by someone, naked, determined and controlling. Realisation dawned that this was what was really happening. I thrust my hips desperately, and groaned in ecstasy as my body forgave me for the fear and uncertainty, and I was lifted and hurled off the edge, climaxing with a force that stunned me. I clamped my legs shut on the head between my thighs and made the movement stop, because I couldn't bear it any longer.

My skin was on fire, my nipples threatened to burst, and my so often self-abused cunt was in heaven, so long as no one touched it.

As Birch's head was removed gently from my clutches, I fell back on the bed, released and relieved. Something moved in the darkness, and I felt a breath on my cheek before Birch's voice whispered in my ear. "Thanks for playing."

I started to speak. I wanted to ask so many questions. The glove was placed over my mouth again, and I understood. I lay quietly as the other body moved slowly away in the darkness.

I heard the creak of the large doors, and then there was silence. I just lay there. I didn't know what else to do. Okay, I touched myself. A little.

After a while, I realised the lights weren't going to come back on, and that I needed to get out of here before anyone caught me. I stumbled from the bed, stood in the dark and considered my options. In the end, I decided it would be better to get dressed than try to find the light switch.

I would have looked a sight if anyone had come in, on my hands and knees, looking for my underwear, but it didn't happen. Eventually I located everything, and got dressed rather clumsily in the dark. I remembered my backpack at the last moment, and grabbed it from where it was lying near my clothes. Slinging it over my shoulder, I knocked one of the costume racks, and frightened myself with the noise. I stumbled towards where I thought the door was, and finally located it.

After the intense blackness of the prop room, the dimly lit outer room seemed bright, and I checked myself over to ensure that I hadn't put my clothing on backwards or anything of that sort. I was alright, so I walked from there out to the hallway, and started down to the doorway, my shoes squeaking again on the floor.

Just before I reached the outside door, it slammed inwards and a whole group of noisy young students barged through. I recognised the guy who seemed to be organising them, and he told me they were on their way to the prop room to sort out some costumes for a play.

I left them then, and walked out into the sunshine, very relieved to have gotten away with it, and tingling, more than a little, between my thighs.

More than anything though, I wondered if the game was over.