Carly absolutely loved babysitting for Debbie Anderson's three year old son. Not only did she have free reign of what she considered the mansion that Debbie lived in, but Brad was a breeze to watch and went to sleep very early, and soundly. Not a bad way to make a few bucks for the twenty year old college student.
Not that Carly wished bad luck on anybody, but when Debbie got divorced the year before, it opened up this opportunity for Carly and she was quick to jump on it. Carly knew very little about Debbie, except that Carly's parents were friends with Debbie and that Debbie paid very well.
Carly hated the thought of losing this job and normally went out of her way to avoid doing anything to upset Debbie. But one night after Brad was in bed, Carly took an uncustomary 'tour' of parts of the house she rarely visited. One wing, in particular, had always piqued her interest.
Debbie had seemingly steered Carly away from the area during their initial walk-through to acquaint Carly with the interior of the house. Ever since, Carly had wondered about the three doors and what they concealed. She decided now was the time to find out.
Walking barefoot to reduce the chance of Brad hearing her, despite the great distance from his room to the mysterious hallway, Carly sneaked toward the first room on the left. A gentle turning of the doorknob allowed it to open without a sound.
Carly pushed the door open just a crack and peeked inside. There was just enough light to let her make out the furnishings of a guest bedroom. Certainly not as exciting as something she imagined from a scary movie, which is what it felt like to her.
She closed the door and moved down the hall to the next room, passing a door on the opposite side in the process. She'd stop there on the way back, she reasoned.
The second room was a den or library. In either case, nothing to run away from screaming.
Carly turned the knob on the third door. It was locked. She hadn't anticipated this and turned the doorknob two more times to confirm the fact it was locked.
Carly stood in the dimly lit hallway and thought for a second. Normally, she wasn't the type of person to even consider finding some way to get inside. But something within Carly took over and ostensibly forced her to consider options. The most obvious was a key. But where was it?
She tried to think like Debbie, or any owner of the house. Where would she put the key? The first thought that came to her mind was—the master bedroom. On the dresser, or inside the dresser, of the master bedroom.
Carly knew it was a long shot. Maybe more than a long shot. But she headed for Debbie's bedroom, entered it, and walked right over to the biggest dresser. Carly studied every object, especially the little jewelry boxes and tiny glass saucer-shaped cups. When she was done, she held four keys in her palm.
With keys in hand, Carly swiftly returned to the locked door. The second key fit and miraculously unlocked the door. Carly was holding her breath as she pushed it open.
She saw no bed. No bookcases or couches. What she DID see caused her breath to finally flow out in a muffled gasp.
Even in the shadows she could clearly make out the manacles hanging from one wall. Hugging the wall under the shackles was what looked like a gymnastic pommel horse without the handles and with a shiny, smooth leather surface.
Carly inched her way into the room, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light. Then she saw the chains hanging from the ceiling with soft handcuffs at the ends. Finally, at the opposite end of the huge room was a bed. But not your typical guest bed. Carly quickly noticed the rope and leather cuffs at the four corners, neatly aligned as if waiting for the next 'victim.'
Along one wall was a massive dresser that appeared to Carly to be at least one hundred years old. The beauty of the woodwork drew her to it. When she pulled open the double doors, another gasp filled the room.
Inside were multiples styles of whips, masks, dildos and mechanical devices Carly could not imagine the uses for. She stared at the collection in awe.
"See one that interests you?"
Carly yelped with fear and spun around. Debbie stood in the doorway.
"Mrs. Anderson! I'm...I'm..."
"It's alright, Carly," Debbie said calmly. "Isn't it amazing how quietly I can get into this house when I don't use the garage door opener?"
Carly nodded nervously, almost unable to speak. But she managed to say, "I'm sorry. I just wanted to...I mean, I'll never do it again."
Debbie smiled and walked into the room. "It's OK, Carly," she said in her most soothing motherly voice. "I would have done the same thing at your age."
With some of her fears allayed, Carly considered what to do next. Did she ask about the room? Did she just get out as fast as possible?
"I suppose your wondering what the hell this is?" Debbie said first.
"Kinda," Carly confirmed.
Debbie looked around the spacious room, took a deep sigh, and said, "You know, Richard was a successful business man who only kept me around as some type of trophy," she said, referring to her ex-husband. "He displayed me at functions, then totally ignored me when we got home. After he left, I had a few opportunities to meet some...uh...interesting women."
She watched for Carly's reaction, and then continued.
"They taught me a lot, Carly. They taught me what sex could REALLY be like."
Carly felt her heart pounding. All of her first impressions of the room were true, and she couldn't believe it. This stuff happened in movies and books, but not to her.
"It looks a little weird to me," Carly said weakly.
Debbie laughed.
"It did to me at first, too," Debbie admitted. "Then they showed me how it all works and I may never have sex with a man again. At least, not without these aids involved."
Carly looked into the dresser she had opened with a new understanding of the contents.
Debbie said, "But we have your disobedience to resolve first, don't we?"
Carly quickly looked up at Debbie. "Please don't fire me, Mrs. Anderson. Please!"
With a grin on her face, Debbie said, "It's Debbie from now on. And I won't."
"Do anything, but PLEASE don't fire me."
Debbie walked over to the dresser. She looked in for a second, and then pulled out a lash with at least a dozen slender pieces of leather hanging from it.
"Maybe I'll keep you," Debbie said, sliding the leather across the palm of her hand. "But you need punished."
