Part 17: Temporarily Back to Almost Normal
…When the animated conversation fades off into silence I expect to be let back in, so I can at least find out what's going on. With this in mind I hear the front door lock being actuated, but instead of being let back in, or even having some kind of explanation for my harsh treatment, I instead get a rough wool army type blanket tossed in my general direction at face level. It's so dark out on that porch, and I'm at the same time so startled by this burst of back lighting that I don't even see who tossed it at me. But I do hear the door being locked once again, the message clear; I'm sleeping on the porch tonight, chained up like a dog, a naughty and naked one…
The morning eventually came with Tracy checking on me, but I didn't sleep very well. She lets me in to complete my kitchen cleanup, and make breakfast for the girls and myself, but I am admonished not to bring up last night in any way. Not by word, nor even questioning glance in Dana's direction. She won't tell me what happened last night, and this not knowing causes me to be extra accommodating and submissive to both girls for fear of doing again whatever it was that I did to earn Dana's wrath the night before. I don't like the unanswered hanging-question feeling this gives me, but I don't exactly have a choice here either, and in keeping with this "mood" I avoid making even eye contact with either of the girls, technically my new owners. If I expected my contractual servitude to the girls to be of the more sexy and playful kind, this maybe serves as a wake up call.
Dana, for her part, is also pretending like "it" never happened, although if I knew the real reason for "it" I might be able to more easily avoid such in the future. I had always considered Dana to be quite sane and rational, although this observation - at the time - comes from my also teen emotional roller coaster self, so this is hardly an unbiased point of view. At the same time I love her like a sister, so it's easy to look past any imperfections she may have; I intellectually know she has them, but they aren't critical to our relationship. In more real world practical terms, Dana owns me for the next five years at least, and not pissing her off is just a better plan than seeing how very angry I can make her if I were to really try.
In keeping with this "plan" I haven't asked to be unchained either, I with enough slack to move about the lower floor of the summerhouse and cook and bathe, but likely not go all the way upstairs to the bedrooms without getting jerked to a sudden stop by my neck, likely someplace on the stairs leading to the bedrooms if my guess is right. The constant tugging at my neck weighs heavily on me like this - although I held the actual chain in one of my hands to reduce this when I could - up to this point almost forgetting that I still wore their collar, locked on my neck until such time as the keys were retrieved.
Both girls obviously see and hear this, the chain noisy where it drags on the hardwood floors, but neither offers to remove the little lock that attaches me to the actual house in a very intimidating physical way. I feel this attachment psychologically, the girls could up and leave me right here, and I would be just as naked and tethered when they returned - if they returned - an hour, or even a week later. I can't easily close any door behind me like this either, not even the bathroom door, privacy something I might obviously have to get used to NOT having in the future. It's better than going outside like a real dog though, I had to do that once during the night, and it was very humbling, even in the pitch black darkness…
This is the day we're to travel back home though, and somebody has some packing to do; the girls place some of their things downstairs for me to pack within the arc of my chained self, but they leaving a good part of their stuff behind as well, we'll all be back here in the fall to start classes anyway. I don't know if going back home will result in a full formal break in my servitude to them, but such will at least have to be tamed down and discrete, less some of the adults in either of our lives question what's going on between us. They know that we're all good friends who love each other like sisters, and just like sisters we apparently might not all get along every second of every day either, especially while living together 24/7. I had realized - perhaps even subconsciously early on - that having one of us "sisters" as the lesser sister, makes for less conflict too, or at least that's how one would expect it should go. This is after all a grand experiment, and I am the proverbial lab rat.
I can't say that I ordinarily had such deep thoughts as a horny and conflicted teen myself, but I believe that conflict arises from equals trying to ensure that they get perceived equal shares of whatever they are in conflict over. I was therefore - now also by contractual obligation - much less than equal to my two pretty friends, self-demoted one could easily say. I, in this context, only should have expected to get what's left over, after the girls got what they wanted first. I hadn't necessarily considered that this might include Gregory as well, but more on that later. I was more thinking in terms of food, standing in line, and even a hot shower, but one could argue that the precedent had already been set.
I missed the innocent playfulness of our earlier trips up to the summerhouse as children, and even the slightly more adult-like fun of our earlier naked adventures, this tattoo of mine and the contract occulting some of that fun now, forming a dark shadow over what should have been nothing but teenaged coming of age fun. How to get back to the light and fun parts though? I wondered. Not that it was for me to choose anyway though, but within the scope of what little influence that I did have, I wanted fun and playfulness again, even if it was at my expense…
"We're leaving the food behind?" I asked for clarification, this not making any sense to me, it would attract bugs and mice in the cabinets, and go ripe in the fridge too. There was a certain way the summerhouse was set when we usually left it, but those other times it had been the responsibility of the adults to make that happen. Now that fell on me as the primary chore doer, and simply cleaning up and leaving things as if I intended to be back the very next day seemed irresponsible. It was still another left-hanging question, and such "secrets" kept from me bothered me in a deep kind of way. I maybe wasn't an equal to the girls for a host of reasons already mentioned, but this "keeping me in the dark" about certain things really drove that point home.
For a moment or two I even thought they would leave me behind, chained to my post as they left for home, but rationally how would they explain such when they got there? As it was, they only unlocked me at the last possible second, as if I would run away once again and spoil their plans to leave on time. They even left my long chain behind, but explaining that away once back home would be a serious trick if somebody spotted it.
My backseat travel uniform would again be my overlong sweatshirt, but without the borrowed shorts this time, making it the only thing I was to wear, short of my sneakers. I hated wearing clothes anyway, and didn't really feel like I deserved them either, so this wasn't exactly a hardship for me. It felt sexy and naughty to be traveling on daylight lit main roads like this, although who would really know? If I had to get out of the car I would have to make sure my long sweatshirt didn't ride up and I accidentally expose myself though, but I didn't expect to be getting out anyway.
I had briefly thought about misbehaving bad enough to be taken back to the hospital to retrieve my things in the actual trunk of Dana's big car again, but it was July this time and hot as hell, the air conditioning not getting back there and I potentially cooking to death like a trussed up holiday turkey on the long trip. Still the idea of being at their mercy again did something for me, I just didn't know what I could do to make it happen, playful disobedience not feeling like a smart menu choice on the first part of this long trip.
I ended up feigning sleep under a sheet, and then drifting into, and out of actual sleep several times on the first part of the trip, but I had also slept terribly on the porch, naked and under the wool blanket as I was. The course material was designed to be warm, even when wet, but at the cost of a rough texture that my soft skin found abrasive and tormentful all on it's own…
But, back to the car. For me there is just a kind of magic to falling asleep in a moving car, and waking someplace else, the only "better" magic being woken and kicked from the car someplace foreign and unknown, possibly while naked and bound for good measure. Being actually dumped naked and bound on the side of the interstate highway would be the height of vulnerability, and the pinnacle of risk too, but something about being dumped off like this was exciting to a certain part of my brain. I know this is naive of me, and that the world is full of people with bad intentions, but at that point in my life I hadn't run into very many of them, sheltered as we all were in our innocent small town upbringing.
I eavesdropped on the girls as they thought I was asleep, hearing snippets of conversations at times over the noise of the car's passage over different road surfaces, through it's different speeds. It was a nice big car, but Dana's parents could afford nice things, and she was their youngest too. After all, boys might safely hitchhike home from a broken down car, or even effect some sort of roadside repair, but not so much for the girls, kinky abduction fantasies aside.
Speaking of being the youngest, we three girls almost had that in common, Dana and Tracy being the youngest each, and I obviously the only child. Such upbringing gave me a more adult outlook on certain things, or so I had been told while growing up. Such could also be awkward, being the child in a room full of adults, sensing that it might be best to go away and play someplace, rather than interact with the adults. I had done both while growing up, but I think such experiences did give me a unique point of view too, and a certain deference to the proper authority of those in a position over my own, the ones paying the proverbial bill.
As a result, even in my quasi-slavery to the girls going forward, there was still an element of escape to all this for me, a newness to this crazy adventure of ours too. And even though I might not have wanted to admit it to myself, had the girls instead elected to go off together to that other exclusive university, and I to community college near home with a borrowed family car, I would have been miserable stuck at home without them.
It also occurred to me at some point - with my unique adult-like outlook - that there might be an element of all of our families wanting to get on with that next phase of their own lives, the empty-nest second almost childhood that such freedom from daily parental responsibilities might provide. Might this little vacation we three girls had just taken given each of them a small taste of such empty nest freedom; and instead of us manipulating them to our desired course of actions; had they simply arranged for what they wanted instead? Adults could be tricky in that way, of that I was certain, knowing them as I did. In my particular case they would miss out on my labors around the house, but was that, in their opinion, a good trade off for having that same house to themselves once again?
Thinking like this was making me melancholy, and when we got off the highway for fuel and snacks, and a bathroom run, I decided to join the proverbial party once again. I needed the mental distraction, and I wanted to give the girls one too, and selfishly redirect their attention back toward me at the same time. I decided on a small lie to achieve my goals, but in the big scheme of things…
I felt the difference between us three when I poked my head up between them in the front seats that they were once again sitting in, the back seat my default travel position just like always, this feeling like my assigned bus seat back in school. It seemed like the farther away from the summerhouse and our future off campus dorm that we got though, the more "normal" things got between us. Such made sense logically, they couldn't treat me too much like their surf once back home without raising suspicions, well, more than normally at any rate. This also gave me some measure of comfort, this was still a game to them, with rules, it just happened to be a very serious game once we were at the summerhouse. In this way I actually felt like more of a slave to the house itself, rather than to my two friends, although they ultimately still owned me, and owned my labors too.
I might even grow to resent the house itself for all the work "it" made for me, but not my loving friends, if I kept this seemingly insane separation between the two in my mind.
My future words would make for an escalation of things for me, I in the past put the things I wanted done to, or with me, in printed form, in my diary. I was way past that now, I had asked for the contract, and I was going to ask for this… this sexy diversion too.
"I had a dream just a while ago," I lied, "in it you girls dumped me off naked someplace, right on the side of the road, right around here even. You eventually came back, but with me standing buck naked on the outside of the car, and you both inside nice and safe and sound, I was in a terrible position to negotiate for the rest of my ride home."
"What if we didn't come back for you?" Dana asks, clearly feeling the playfulness of my offer, our earlier one sided conflict left back at the summerhouse.
I knew in my mind that she would come back for me, but to perpetuate this fantasy of being dumped off to fend for myself someplace, abandoned, naked, and alone, I knew I had to come up with a better answer than that.
"In my dream you eventually came back, but I think you may have stopped off at a fast food restaurant, after maybe searching for one for a while. But, if you didn't come back, I might have to hitchhike home in my skin, maybe even with some over the road trucker, I just think those big trucks are awesome, and I'd love to see what one of those sleeper rigs looks like from the inside."
I had done it, told a lie, but mixed in with a truth. I did think those huge over the road trucks were just awesome, and I did want to get a look inside one of those sleeper things one day, but I didn't necessarily want to "pay" for that ride with the complete stranger of a truck driver; my kink, naive innocence or not, didn't extend quite that far. There was a reason that every truck stop we had ever seen had a porn palace shop nearby, over the road truckers likely the horniest bunch of men on the planet. We girls had a giggle every time we saw one of the lusty billboards advertising the shops on the highway, and we did attract attention when we fueled up at those truck stops to be sure.
Dana looks over at Tracy, the two communicating as if one single being once again. "Hungry?"
"Always."
The cynical part of my mind thought that no truer words had ever been spoken, the girls thought about food often now, the ice cream shop, my cooking a huge feast for them and the guys just being two recent examples. It seemed like their own freedom from their parental home revolved around food choices, their food choices, but who could blame them. I hadn't really thought about it before, but the girls' eating habits could explain their voluptuous teen bodies and full enticing boobs. I was maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet back then, where both girls were maybe one fortyish each, although they looked good like this, very womanly. Guys at the same time just loved the way they looked in dresses that just barely fit, and there was a part of me that was envious of all that too. Full bodied was even currently in fashion, after all, and both girls embodied this "spilling out of my dress" sultry look fully.
I was thin back then, but I was a runner too. I also had a different apparent attitude about food, I ate when I had to, or I remembered to, although I will admit to liking ice cream just like anybody else. I could still wear a bikini at my weight, but both girls looked falling-out magnificent, filling out theirs, or even better in their one pieces that had a better chance of containing their massive boobs should they want to actually swim. For me though, a bikini was just something that let a good part of me tan and stay cool when in the pool, or on a public beach. I hadn't thought about it in depth, but wearing so little was almost like being nude in public, something I had discovered that excites me for some strange reason now.
The girls had also had a taste of sleeping together, and sharing a young man too, and it would be hard to go back to not doing so while living back home for them. I was more used to doing without, so this next part would actually be easier on me, but first we had to get there.
Tracy has a map out, and Dana is driving down side streets looking for something, finding it with Tracy's help and driving up, climbing a long dirt road through the trees. This is near enough to the interstate highway that I can hear the roar of its presence, but competing with that is my heart pounding in my chest, and in my temples. They are going to kick me out, naked, and maybe even bound, and I'm both terrified, and excited like mad at the prospect. THIS is the apparent trail that they use to service the billboards along the highway, it's not quite a cliff, but well elevated from the roadway itself, and impossible to get to from the highway directly.
It's even a porn palace billboard, and when we drive up close to it the woman wearing almost nothing posed on it offers "full nude shows" the irony simply too good for the girls to pass up. The structure holding the billboard up is massive, you can't appreciate it from the highway, you just have to stand right under it to get a real feel for it, touch it even. The woman looking down on us provocatively is massive too, her billboard like a giant sail, elevated and in the wind as it is. The massive telephone pole construction might seem like overkill; there are half a dozen holding the sign aloft, probably fifteen feet or more over my head, but it also looked old, and it likely hadn't moved an inch.
Getting dumped off here is so far out of my comfort zone it's crazy, but I've asked for this, or something just like this. It's not nighttime either, but broad daylight on a sunny hot day, my heart is pounding, and I discover that my mouth is suddenly very dry too. This is only a natural response to my fear, but I didn't realize such back in the day.
I expect that they're going to strip me and give me the boot up here someplace, this very kinky and a huge and terrifying thrill, but even though I'm scared, I'm very much into this too, the submission and abandonment aspect of this as well. I'm out of the car before I can even make a mock protest, my borrowed sweatshirt is then pulled over my head and confiscated, as are my sneakers, apparently nude means FULLY nude. Dana could have hopped back in, slammed her door in my face and driven off with me just like this, and I would have been in nirvana, terrifying nirvana though, as I was forced to wait for her return.
But no, I was then leashed and walked directly towards the billboard, in it's actual shadow. The road is quite noisy and this feels anything but private, with that ever present noise. I can't see the cars driving by below, but I can just see the tops of the taller over the road trucks in the fast lane. Dana isn't quite dragging me by my leash, but her shoes-on pace is faster than what is comfortable for my bare feet over the same rough ground and sharp stones; she holds my leash though, so she sets the pace. Tracy at the same time is fetching something from the trunk, I hear it open and slam over top of the highway's noise, but I can't look back to see what it is without strangling myself at Dana's pace, my eyes down submissively… and to see where to place my bare feet next for minimum discomfort.
Dana walks me completely under the massive billboard and out toward the sun, and the front highway-facing telephone poles buried deep into the ground. I can see a little more of the trucks from here, telling me how close to the highway I actually am. I see the ladder that the men use to work on the sign, either changing the lights, or replacing the canvas-like cover held onto the frame by ropes laced tight like a giant sneaker, or maybe a corset would be a better metaphor, bearing in mind the sign's subject matter. I just learned something new that day, and any day I can do that is just wonderful for a curious mind like mine.
Anyway, Dana briefly unhooks my leash, only to make a slip knot joint out of the handle around the center telephone pole, just as Tracy had done on the porch when she gave me my first even intrusive pet bath. That seemed like a lifetime ago, and pushed some obvious boundaries for us, but here I was with a brand new cattle brand-like tattoo on my butt, stark naked at the side of an interstate highway, and on full display except for a difference in elevation. I felt the tingle in my belly at being so potentially exposed, and it was awesome!
My leash was predictably clipped back onto my collar, tethering me to the pole, reminiscent of the way I was tethered to the summerhouse itself earlier. That second time had been with a lock and chain though, and the trapped feeling it gave me was difficult to describe, where this one only required me to reach up behind my neck and unhook the latch myself. I only had less than three feet of slack in my leash though, where my summerhouse chain was quite long in comparison.
Tracy catches up with us by then, and she has our cuffs from the hospital, and the girls secure my wrists behind my back, and hobble me too, just for good measure. I couldn't unlatch my leash like this if my life depended on it now, and I can't get very far from the pole either. The hot sun feels like a spotlight to me, and I also feel like I'm on stage, almost like the stripper leering down at me from above. Could I ever do what she does, just once even? I ask myself. Now that would be well, well out of my comfort zone, but the horny truck drivers would probably just love it, if I could only just dance even slightly provocatively.
If I were to somehow slip my leash, I would be reduced to hopping away like a frightened jackrabbit, or Jackie rabbit I thought with a silent laugh, the odd self-given nickname sticking in my head for some reason. Maybe instead I could take some very short steps, but my teetering barefooted pace would be maddeningly slow like this, not to mention the face plant I may well have, cuffed behind my back as I am.
Ripped up rags from who knows what are converted into a blindfold and a cleave gag, with several knots tied into the latter to form a mass for my mouth. It's not the most efficient gag, certainly much less so than the hospital acquired one, but I assume that they left that one behind. Now if I were to slip my leash, as unlikely as that is, I would be reduced to hopping away blindfolded, my fate sealed until the girls came back for me, if they came back for me…
What if someone else were to find me first? I ask myself.
This isn't "safe" and limited exposure like at the summerhouse, this instead a truly a foreign place, just an exit off of the interstate highway for gas and food, with thousands of strangers driving by every hour. I was terrified by the mere concept, but excited as hell at the same time, and when I heard the car doors slam and Dana drove away; I felt very trapped and helpless. I also feel the sun on my naked body, and my imagination runs wild when I hear one of the trucks driving by blowing his loud air horn, the sound coming from the roof mounted horns of the truck and almost directly in line of sight with my ears. I jump when I hear that the first time, but the over loud horn is designed to get your attention, and it does this with me in a big way.
Standing there naked, bound, and on display in the bright sun causes me to wonder why the trucks are suddenly blowing their horns, they weren't doing so moments before when the girls were dumping me off. This wasn't one long blast on their horns either, warning angrily of an impending crash, but more of a honk, honk-hooooonnnnk as the truck drives past! The pattern seems different truck to truck, but still playful and not angry. I then have a horror epiphany, these guys can somehow see me, or at least some part of me! They have C.B. radios too, and likely they have told their fellow truckers to look under the provocative billboard to see what's also standing there on display!
I'm therefore possibly putting on one hell of a show, but I at least hope for the tall trucks alone, and not some family in a station wagon coming back from vacation themselves. "Can the cops see me from their patrol cars too?" I then wonder, or do they as well have C.B. radios? This is a race of time now, the girls have to come back and rescue me before the cops get here, or one of the trucks turns around and investigates. It would be impossible to drive his big rig truck up where Dana's car just fit, but a determined and curious man could still park and walk up to see up close what he thought he had seen from the highway. These guys seem nothing but lonely and horny too, it's the reason for the billboard and what it promises in the first place.
This lends a whole new meaning to "live nude shows," and could well lead to that ride I had one day wanted in one of the sleepers on those big trucks. It's an exciting fantasy, but likely a horrible reality, and my mind goes not to my own self preservation, but what my friends would go through after the fact.
…Some time later, it felt like hours to me, though in reality it probably was only a half an hour or so, I heard a large car drive up near where I was trapped. The police have big cars too though, and with all the truck horns and the general traffic noise on the roadway before me, I can't tell if it's Dana's or not. I only hear one door open and slam closed though, and in terror I realize that most cops patrol alone, where I know for a fact that Dana has Tracy as a passenger. I stand still like a frightened deer, hoping that whoever it is can't see me like this, although naked and standing in the bright sun this is irrational at best!
Still, from behind the billboard where the service trail-like road takes you, I might be hard to spot on the other side of the thick pole. It's not exactly the best plan, but I have few better options blindfolded and presented as I am. I also sense somebody running from the direction of the car's slamming door towards me, telling me I'm already caught. Before the running feet ever get to me though, I feel my leash getting unhooked from the pole I'm standing against, and I'm startled.
I didn't realize that anybody was there with me, or had somehow snuck up on me, but somebody could have always walked there, instead of driving in on the dirt road like Dana had, maybe even a curious trucker. I'm in no position to either fight, or run away, I'm simply going where my captors drag me, to do who knows what once we get there.
Before I can focus on the details of the who knows what part, I hear what should be a comforting voice approaching, she telling my unseen captor that "we've got to get going, like right now!" It's Dana, using her "in charge" voice, but she's also frazzled, somethings going wrong, and we need to leave, the urgency clear in her voice. This tells me that Tracy had stayed behind to keep a protective eye on me, likely while Dana got us some fast food take out.
With no time apparently to unbuckle my bindings, or even tell me what's going on, each girl takes an arm and they run as fast as they can while carrying-dragging my bound body, and then nearly pitch me into the hot trunk. I'm still tied and helpless, and other than the impending doom feeling to all this hurry, this in-line with several very hot fantasies of mine, as long as the girls were there to watch out for me.
My ears pop as Dana slams the trunk on me, and we peel out of there as fast as she can drive, the big V-8 engine roaring out of it's twin exhausts and sounding angry to me, gravel flying and hitting the other side of the wheel wells I'm laying up against. It's louder back here than it is inside the car itself, but Dana settles down quickly, less I get bashed and pounded to death in the nearly empty trunk.
By the time the girls find a safe place to stop I'm really starting to cook in the trunk, I would say while sweating through my clothes, but I'm obviously not wearing any. Both girls are laughing and joking between themselves when they get me out, and Dana shares what happened with me while we three get reacquainted once again. This is like old times between us, like at the abandoned hospital even, with us running for our lives after doing something off-the-charts crazy.
Dana, it seems, had left Tracy behind to keep an eye on me; as I had guessed, she went for fuel at the truck stop fuel pumps first, and then onto the fast food restaurant, or so went her plan. While the man was filling her tank she heard several guys excitedly on one of the truck's loud C.B. radios talking about some "naked chick" under the billboard for the porn palace. It was all over the radio… Dana knew it was me obviously, and she then raced up there to get us before somebody else did.
It was obviously a hot as hell dare that almost got away from us, but half an hour later still something to giggle about, once safely away from the danger. This also reminded me that the girls still have my back; although with all the turmoil at the summerhouse I had temporarily forgotten that. From that point forward I admonished myself to remember that this was still a game between us, and that we were still friends…