Part 8: Caught
When I had calmed down I become aware of something going on upstairs that curiosity demanded I investigate, despite my fatigue. I was wonderfully relaxed and still rather warm from my exertions when I rose, creeping to the stairs with my eyes adjusted to the near total darkness, the shaft of light from the top of the stairs providing adequate illumination for my mischief.
I crept more like a stealthy cat than a pet dog up the stairs, hugging the wall and stepping over the fifth noisy step without thought just as the girls had done not all that long ago. I somehow felt more naked and exposed creeping around on my two legs in the dark than when I had been ordered to all fours earlier, as if that enforced canine position was the more natural for me, or perhaps because such a posture presented most of my intimate parts to the floor rather than toward whoever looked at me in critical inspection. The girls had seen me like this often enough, and would do so more than ever on this little vacation of ours, and while I had little body modesty left to offer where they were concerned, my post orgasmic mind pondered of such things.
I moved unnervingly slowly, to be caught in the act just wouldn't do, but still there was a building tempo to the soft noises coming from the dimly lit doorway open only a crack. I felt like a thief violating the trust my friends had placed in me, but my curiosity overrode those considerations. I had to know what was going on, see it for myself, even though the sounds were unmistakable had I stopped and thought rationally about such things.
The source of the only noise and light was the master bedroom, and when close enough I looked in to see Dana sprawled out in the center of the master bed from her chest up due to my vantage point through the narrow gap between the door and door frame, her nightshirt rumpled up on the bed next to her. Her left hand was busy molesting her own breasts as I looked on like some peeping Tom, but when I moved my position in the doorway to followed her magnificent form down I then saw that her right fist wrapped in the hair on the top of Tracy's head. Tracy was nestled between Dana's splayed thighs and quite occupied, solving the mystery of the girls sleeping arrangements.
Little mewing noises escaped Dana lips as she panted, her eyes closed and her head thrust toward the headboard with her hips rolled, and the center of her spine off of the bed completely. Her painted toes were curled as well, and it looked as if she were having one incredible long and drawn out orgasm with Tracy's efforts, and I realized neither was likely a first for my pretty friends, also explaining why any boyfriends they had were short term.
Tracy obviously wasn't looking at me either as I watched her attack our friends womanhood with what could only be a great amount of practice. She was making little noises as well, but different ones with some subtle humming overtones as if she were devouring some favorite desert, which she may well have been.
Despite Dana's fingers wrapped in Tracy's hair there was no overt coercion between the two lovers, and I wondered if this arrangement were mutual, or if Tracy were somehow like myself and desirous of only serving Dana despite the dominate qualities that I had witnessed directed toward myself.
As I watched I found my own fingers exploring once again, the sight before me well beyond erotic. In my dreams I had wanted to serve my friends, possibly just as Tracy was serving Dana, but those dreams had the implication of such things without the actual substance of the physical details. What I saw was therefore both a gift, and a curse at the same time. Dana at least would be open to using me in that way, but she already had another to serve her, one she likely shared several secrets with that until moments before I had no idea were so intimate. She also had another with which to compare my unskilled performance with, and I sensed I might not measure up to my pretty friend, hardly a first for me.
I thought I must have been quite naïve to have missed the overt signs upon reflection, but then wondered if this was the girls way of inviting me into their private club. I didn't feel worthy of such status, feeling more comfortable in submissive service to both of them rather than being an equal, or even near equal in their proverbial bed. Perhaps one day that might change, but first I wanted to ride this proverbial train of submission to the end of the tracks and see what happened, although my courage for such adventure was lacking at that moment with my sated mood. Had I not just entertained myself on my pet bed I might have had the courage to just walked in and join my friends, but my post orgasm mind was once again full of doubt. What if they rejected me?
A further mystery was why Tracy was so shy about giving me a pet bath earlier, she obviously having no problem with intimate contact with another woman. I however wasn't Dana, and not a member of their club just yet, she possibly not wanting to scare me off without some sign from me to continue.
That seemed incredible to me in light of everything we had been through. Was I not earlier naked and wearing cuffs and a collar while leashed by her? Still, having an intimate relationship with my pretty friends was quite different than being their naked pet, and still another paradigm to apparently break if I wanted a permanent ticket on this train.
I only knew one full proof way to communicate my desires without having to demonstrate the courage to ask rather directly, courage being in very short supply for myself at the moment. I forced myself to slip from the provocative scene before me to make an entry or two in my diary, assuming I could find it downstairs. My head was awash with all manner of thoughts as I descended the stairs, forgetting about the fifth squeaky step, hardly visible anyway in the sliver of light from the upstairs bedroom occulted now by my body. The step made a terrible noise in the nearly silent house when I stepped on it, I only hoping that the two lovers were so engaged that they didn't notice my intrusion.
After my noisy decent was complete I managed to find my diary, (rather than diving back into my pet bed and feinting sleep as I so wanted), it left out on a table as if it were there for any visitors to read like some magazine. I made several entries and then tried to sleep, eventually dreaming of the girls and their intentions for me. These dreams were rather more graphic than my earlier ones, but with what I just witnessed hardly a surprise.
************
In the morning I woke from my pet bed early, not with the sun, but with heavy rain pelting the windows, taking a proper shower and doing my morning routine before the girls woke. I then put on the apron Tracy had worn the day before, it almost looking presentable with it's fuller coverage of my body as compared to hers, and I set about cooking breakfast for my friends just as Tracy had suggested. I realized I had a choice, maid or pet, but this maid at least could cook herself a meal and eat it in human fashion before the girls got theirs.
I learned the apron wasn't just for looks either, even though it did look good on me. Not only a submissive uniform of sorts from a generation ago, but it protected my more tender bare flesh from the spatter of butter on the griddle as I cooked my pancakes. I had never cooked in just my skin before, and would only do so now with extreme caution.
A second problem was how to serve breakfast to my friends, call and wake them, or bring it to them in bed, presumably the same bed I had watched them in the night before? Doing so would let them know I knew they had at least slept in the same bed, but that still didn't guarantee the intimacy I had witnessed. It was after all a big bed, and they could possibly have slept in it in innocence without "sleeping together". I knew different obviously, but did they know that?
I had time to kill until when Tracy had requested their breakfast, but at nine sharp I ascended the stairs with a tray of pancakes and coffee, all to serve my friends breakfast in bed like a good little maid. I made no effort to step over the noisy fifth step either, allowing them to know I was coming, and knocking on the now fully closed door lightly while waiting permission to enter.
"Come in" was Dana's terse response, I realizing that they knew I knew by that alone. If I had wanted to play dumb I could have made a show of looking in the other rooms first, but I didn't.
"Breakfast in bed ma'am," I announced with a smile, seeing my friends in the same bed but once again wearing their night shirts, the lack of surprise evident on my face.
"Oh, this is perfect," Tracy told me with what sounded to me like a false enthusiasm, she sitting up in bed to accept the tray I held, her hair an uncharistic mess and looking more like my own first thing in the morning. I knew she had asked for as much, but perhaps Dana not knowing she had.
"Almost perfect," Dana added ominously, to which I caught myself making a pouty face thinking she didn't like my cooking that she had yet to even taste.
"What would make this perfect would be that free shopper magazine that they always used to stuff into the mailbox every week. Seeing as it's raining I'm in the mood for some second hand bargain shopping."
I stood staring, wondering if I understood correctly what Dana was asking of me as I watched her take her first sip of coffee, light and sweet, just as I had fetched it for her before numerous times. I found myself almost hanging on her every word, my inexplicable desire to please her overwhelming, whether it be in the proportions of her morning cup of coffee, or the fact that she had a desire for the bargain shopper paper that I had not anticipated. I felt like I had disappointed my pretty friend who was thoughtful enough to share this experience with me, and there was a deep desire inside of me at that instant to correct that.
"There is no reason to get your apron soaked in that miserable rain though," she added for clarity with a playful smile as her eyes bore into mine. "Leave it downstairs, but don't forget to lock the door on your way out."
It was clear the path I needed to take if I were once again to regain her good graces, playful tone or not, her smile telling me all could be right again between us with this simple task completed. Her tone throughout was soft, it wasn't so much a rebuke as disappointment that my performance was beneath her expectations.
Dana broke her stare with me and turned to address Tracy sitting next to her, I being dismissed by default. I had allowed myself to forget Tracy was even in the same room for those few seconds, but there was no time to ponder such things, Dana needed something, and I was tasked to provide it.
************
I left the girls presence and went downstairs to shuck my apron, banded up my hair, and slipped into my sneakers without even thinking about my actions as if going for a naked run in the rain to fetch the paper from the mailbox was normal. I found myself standing on the porch with the door closed behind me before I even realized I had locked it, trapping me on the outside until such time as my friends decided to let me in. I rolled that thought in my mind as I stretched out on the porch before my run, something profound had just happened, but it was just beyond my reason at that moment.
I ordinarily don't wear all that much when I run, the added weight and restriction of movement takes energy, and anything that robs energy is the enemy of runners. That being said, some barrier between the cold rain drops and my skin might have been welcome. I wasn't cold necessarily, (my body warmed by an internal heat fueled by the eroticism of the moment), but I should have been. Before I was even half way to the box there wasn't one dry part on me, but I was enjoying myself despite this, my naked freedom coupled to my crazy task bringing out something wonderful in me that seemed impossible to put to words.
Compared to the other things I had done in the girls company this little chore of fetching the paper broke few barriers, other than it being on my own with they far enough away not to protect me. With an unusual feeling of self promotion I came to the conclusion that I looked good on my run, and if someone were trespassing and peeking on me from the tree line, they likely would like the show I was providing.
If some imaginary peeking man would like to do more than watch my form as I ran by I thought he better be in good shape, or devise a good ambush, I confident I could out sprint almost any man undressed as I was. My daydream continued on a predictable path as I ran, what if there were more that one man laying in ambush for which to capture me? Could two, or even three men surround me and make an effective capture?
The noise of the roadway broke my daydream, there being some traffic traveling back and forth on the road I was running toward. I would have to stand in the actual lane to retrieve the contents of the mailbox, ironically placed at the roads edge to make it more convenient for the mailman in his little truck, it's position there not feeling all that convenient at the moment from my perspective.
The gate was a second obstacle, there were boulders on both sides of it that I would have to climb over to get to the box, they placed there to keep trespassers from simply driving around the gate if they didn't have the key, which I didn't. Once out from behind the gate anybody driving by and looking out their side window would be able to see my naked self, changing the fun of this little dare into terror in an instant. The girls weren't with me with which I could hide behind, nor Dana's big car to either hide in, or in front of out of sight of the traffic.
I realized then that it would have been better to have sprinted all the way to the box, giving me more time to work out the problem of getting to the box unseen. I eventually found myself hiding directly behind the gate, it mostly concealing my body from the road, but a good thirty plus feet from my goal. I ordinarily stole courage from both girls in situations like this, but they were probably still warm and comfortable in bed together, or perhaps already soaping each other up in the shower. I couldn't go back empty handed, but couldn't get caught naked standing in the road either.
I hid behind the gate realizing it was less than perfect for such purposes, the distance between it's metal slats providing some view of my body if one were to just drive by slowly and look. With that thought fresh in my mind I heard a long progression of cars traveling slowly on the wet road in the distance, they making a different sound from the sporadic cars zipping past the mailbox.
I was just starting to get cold as well, my crouching behind the gate not burning any calories with which to heat me, and my erotic furnace cooling with the thought of getting caught. I heard the long line of slow cars approach, theorizing that all the faster cars would be stuck behind the slower ones, giving me the break in traffic I required to do the deed. I watched as the line of cars eventually drove by from my hiding spot, then heard the quiet that followed, knowing it was a now or never moment if I didn't want to go back empty handed.
I scampered over the wet boulders being as careful with my tender parts as time allowed, sprinted to the edge of the road and mailbox, and then removed the contents of it while standing partially in the roadway. It was a definite thrill to be standing in a potentially busy road without a stitch of clothing, the lack of cars both seen and heard almost anti-climactic though.
That thrill gave me some temporary courage, and I wondered when I would get another such opportunity, and thought it would be an even greater thrill to stand in the center of the two lane road right on the center line in all my naked glory. I then stood in the center as if a naked traffic cop directing traffic for just a few seconds, then as a final dare to myself to up the ante once again I laid down on the wet macadam spread eagled with the painted line bisecting my body obscenely. It almost would have been better, certainly more exciting if a car came speeding up the road and I had to run for cover, but that never happened.
I got up and walked to the boulders once again with the entire contents of the mailbox in my hand, scampered back over them and realized I had the gravel from the center of the roadway stuck all over my back and butt, I brushing off only what I could reach. I started jogging toward the summer house after that, wondering how I would explain the gravel and dirt to my friends, or for that matter my insane near exhibition should I be compelled to answer. On the way back I slipped back into my erotic day dream of nefarious men watching from where the tree line was the darkest, wondering about my sanity for the first time ever.
What could two or even three nefarious men do with me if they caught me, I wondered? Gag me so I couldn't scream. Wonderful. Bind me with their belts as I struggled. Even better. Explore the depths of their lust, and mine, taking turns with me until they ran out of ideas. Almost perfect. My struggling for an escape I didn't want while given no choice but to enthusiastically cooperate with my imaginary captors, less they punish me. Simply perfect. It was after all a daydream, and it was safe to allow my imaginary captors to do what they wanted to me, not that they would give me a choice though.
It was a vivid daydream, one that demanded I stop for a few minutes and vent some of that energy less my erotic thermostat overheat. It had only been hours since I had entertained myself on my pet bed, but so much had happened since then, my appetite for such things taking a rather drastic upturn on this vacation of ours.
The rain was hardly falling under the heavy tree canopy, and the ground softer there as well, but I walked off the driveway trail not knowing exactly what I intended. I was on autopilot, just knowing I wanted something badly, and also knowing my imaginary captors would have some part in things.
I needed my hands free so I put the mail in my mouth instead of getting it wet on the ground, thinking to myself, "there's my gag." I then knelt on the soft and wet ground under a large oak tree, positioning my legs on either side of it's wide trunk while leaning my back against it for support. It wasn't even bondage, let alone good bondage, but my imagination made up for such deficiencies. My hands knew what to do, and here my fantasy of being restrained and used by my captors fell apart, but I was too far along for that to matter.
This was the first time I can recall being alone and isolated enough to really howl, and despite my improvised gag I made a racket, I sounding like some poor animal in distress. There was no finesse in my actions either, I just trying to sate this animalistic desire disrupting my thoughts and driving me insane, hopefully before the girls figured it out for themselves. My eyes were closed and I fantasized about serving my captors, my orgasm powerful but way too quick, and nothing like what I had watched Dana experience.
It was over in seconds, although with proper restraint I knew it could have been so much better. It felt more like scratching a stubborn itch rather than the total body pleasure experience I craved, and when I caught my breath I felt short changed and slightly naughty.
For some reason I have yet to realize I searched left and right to see if anybody had just watched what I had done, I not feeling all that good about it in my post orgasmic mood. To my horror I saw the top of a bouncing umbrella making a direct path toward my kneeling position, I not able to see who held it with our relative positions, but there was little doubt that they were coming straight for me...
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15.07.15
story continues in My Summer Of Dares 9: Taken In Trade
o0o