Sun light. That was my first thought as my blurry vision returned. How long had I been sleeping?
I came round to find myself on the couch. Despite the fact that I must have resembled a car wreck casualty, I was pretty comfortable; right up to the point where I tried to move. My shoulder was knotted, and after a stretch I realised that the muscles in my lower back were also going to give me grief.
Good start.
The lounge was empty and all was quiet... Where the hell was everybody?
The punch bowl was left on the small drinks stand in the middle of the room, mostly empty from the previous night's "social gathering" (read; "piss up"). A few empty beer cans were left across the floor, and the TV had been switched to standby. From the lounge I could see straight into the kitchen, also empty. The playing cards from our Poker game had been left out on the dinning table. What a mess, I was glad this wasn't my house.
I pulled myself up onto my feet, and immediately two things struck me. Firstly, my head was throbbing. Secondly, my other head was throbbing. My hard-on, tucked to one side of my jeans, ached for release; a fuck, or a palm. Not normally a slave to my baser instincts, I was able to ignore that, however; it was bloody uncomfortable. I'm not what you might call "Pornstar enormous", but I like to think I'm on the larger side; so walking with it hard in tight jeans was not only hard to conceal, it was also awkward. I remember when I was a young teen (I'm only twenty five now, but it feels like a lifetime ago), I was curious enough to measure it. Just over six inches, and quite thick. Sure, there was bigger, but I was proud of it all the same.
In fact, it was perhaps because of my size that I ended up here, in a round-about way.
I had just come out of a steady relationship. A sexless relationship. When we had met each other, myself and Beth, four years earlier, the sex had been great, and frequent. Then less so. Then even less so; untill about the two year mark when it was all but gone. I'd tried everything to get things back on track, but to no avail. Apparently, intercourse was hurting her, and that in turn was damaging her sex drive. She blamed my size. I tried to be supportive, but that turned to resentment, the relationship soured, and I left her. Frigid bitch. She was very upset, but I had needs.
Through all this, my friend Taz had supported me. Now; here I was, at the party; or more precisely, the aftermath.
Taz is a misleading nickname I guess. Her real name is Tamsin. Or Tam if you're a friend. She actually hates being called Taz, but after the years we've known each other she finally had to accept Taz as the name I was going to use; like it or not. Nobody else got away with it.
I first met Taz after she started dating a mutual friend. I say mutual, Chris has been a close friend since High School. We had a spark, and she quickly became my closest friend. We both had very similar interests (mainly a passion for film and illustration), the same cutting sense of humour (which was usually employed against each other during our frequent battles of wit), and naturally it didn't hurt any that she was a stunner.
Despite being a casual kind of chick that rarely ever used make up, to be honest, she didn't have to; she was gorgeous anyway. She was slim (but athletic), with small but very firm looking breasts; my favourite type of figure. Her pale complexion was faultlessly smooth, and mousey brown hair framed her pretty face. A cheeky smile which curved up higher to one side, and those emerald eyes... I think, if anything, I'd rather she was a little taller (with her coming only half way up my chest), but that's being really, really picky.
I think a lot of our friends had suspected that we would eventually end up together, and I certainly couldn't deny the appeal. We had plenty of chemistry. It made a lot of sense, thankfully something that Chris (who was normally relaxed but on occasions a jealous type of guy) had been oblivious to. However, I've always preferred to keep things real and not to get involved in fantasy. I never broached the subject to Taz.
Back to the Kitchen. I opened the fridge door and helped myself to the last can of beer. It was cold in my hand, and refreshing inside my mouth (which currently tasted like a sewer).
Back to the lounge. I don't think I'd ever seen the place so untidy. Taz lived here with her best girl-pal, Kat (short for Kate, if you couldn't guess?). Of the two, Taz was certainly the more house proud, even during a party like last night she would always be running round clearing things away. This had to be her biggest fault, and had led to her being dubbed the "house Nazi". Obviously, not a title she was all that enamoured with.
Then I heard a noise, something banging on the floor from up above. I walked over to the stairs, listening. Was somebody getting-it-on up there?
"Who's down there?" called the familiar voice. It was Taz.
I began to climb the stairs as I answered.
"Who do you think? Where is everybody?"
"Get me out of here, would you please?" came the reply.
The door to her bedroom was ajar. I pushed it open slowly. Looking mighty undignified, yet still trying to retain some of her dignity and fiery pride, was Taz...
She was handcuffed to the bed rail.
What the fuck?
"What the fuck?"
Being a guy, I tend to just come out with what I'm thinking.
"Don't just stand there gawping like a prick and find the fucking key!"
Taz was always such a sweet girl.
She was wearing the same outfit from the night previous; A tight white vest top over a black bra, blue jeans that hung low on her hips, that same little silver butterfly on the black strap round her neck. Still fully dressed, so I assumed this was nothing kinky.
"Hang on, first thing's first; why are you chained to the bed?"
Then another thought occurred to me.
"How long have you been up here like this?" I added.
"Not long, about fifteen minutes. They left me here when Stuart took everybody out for a beer run. I thought you'd have been with them?"
Stuart had not been drinking, and so was likely driving them to the nearest supermarket, a trip that was going to take about half an hour longer. They must have left me sleeping. The party was going to continue it seemed.
"Will you please find the key now?" She continued, pulling her hands against the chain.
"That don't explained why you're cuffed to the bed."
"House Nazi" She said, a little embarrassed.
"This is my punishment for being a stuck up bitch... Maybe they're right? Maybe I do worry too much..." A defeated look crossed her face, but only for a moment, and then it was gone.
"Key?" I said, examining the cuffs. "I thought they all had a safety latch type thing on the side?"
