MrPersistancy
TMF Novice
- Joined
- Nov 25, 2007
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This is part one of the latest thing I've been writing...I guess I'll submit the other parts when they get finished. And as always, any criticism, good or bad, is greatly appreciated!
“Finally, a weekend at the house without the twins being here!” thought Jane as she walked through the kitchen, grabbing a glass of orange juice from the counter. She glided into the living room and sat down on the couch facing the television. She flipped the television on, looking for something to watch while she waited for her hot pocket to be done cooking. She stopped on the local news channel when she saw the face of a girl she went to school with in the upper corner of the screen. She quickly turned the volume up and leaned forward, trying to find out what the story was about.
“…but her whereabouts are unknown at this time. She was last seen at a Starbucks, talking to an unidentified man. Staff members at Starbucks have said he has short dark hair, a piercing in his left ear, has light stubble, and was wearing a pair of white Oakley sunglasses on his head. If anyone has any other information, please call the station immediately.”
Jane shut the television off, quickly remembering back to high school. It had been a few years, but she knew who the girl was. Susan Yearling. Jane was only a year older than her, but she remembered that Susan was on the soccer team and was quite popular. Jane was popular as well, but the younger girls were very cliquey, and never associated with the older students. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed her hot pocket, munching it as she wandered upstairs to her room.
She opened the door to her room and flopped onto her queen sized bed. Sunlight flooded the room, illuminating the light blue walls covered with paintings she had created over the years. She closed the curtains and pulled off her tight yellow t-shirt, tossing it onto one of the bed posts. She slid out of her shorts and stood in front of the full length mirror in the corner of her room, examining her barely clothed body. She slid her hand across her flat stomach, toned from the many years of basketball she had played. She was very fit, and had always liked to work out and stay in shape. Her heaving bosom spilled out from her white lace bra as she leaned forward; making the sexy poses she usually did when she was alone in front of the mirror. She turned around and peeked over her shoulder, making a surprised face at herself in the mirror. Her boy shorts fit her ass perfectly—the guys always loved catching a glimpse of her killer body.
Now that she was alone in the house, an idea fluttered through her mind. She unsnapped her bra and tossed it onto the floor. She slid out of her underwear, letting them sit at her feet. The cold air from her air conditioner made her nipples stand erect, and a cold chill travelled down her spine. She stood in front of the mirror, posing naked, thinking about how much she wish she had a boyfriend. She had always been a closet nympho, but had never been able to keep a boyfriend long enough to do anything crazy. She skipped over to her desk and grabbed her camera, taking a few glamour shots of her gorgeous naked body. She placed the camera back on her desk and hopped into her bed, ready for a long nap. After a few minutes, she was fast asleep.
The doorbell jolted her out of an intense dream with Brad Pitt, which made her slightly upset. After all, you almost always get woken up at the best part of the dream. She got out of bed and put on her t-shirt and a pair of sweats as the doorbell rang again. “What the fuck, I’m coming, give me a second!” she yelled as she bounded down the stairs.
She opened the door, and a man in an expensive looking suit stood on her porch with a pad of paper. He had short hair and a few days of stubble on his face, and Jane stuttered when she greeted him, thrown off by his stunning good looks. “Uh, hi. What’s up?”
“Sorry to bother you, miss, but my company is doing an impromptu survey in the area, and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?”
“Yeah, sure. Shoot.” Jane said, standing with her arms crossed, skillfully covering her most likely visible nipples. Good call with the light yellow shirt, she thought.
“This shouldn’t take long. Are you the owner of the house?” he asked, pulling a pen out of his inner pocket.
“Nope. I live with two other girls, but they went on vacation this week. They own the house, I just live with them.” Jane said.
“Alright, well do you know when they will be back? My company needs to know a few things about the house, and we are required to talk to the person who pays the mortgage. Nothing against you, just company policy.” He said with a smile. He was very charismatic—no wonder he was their leading man in the street.
Jane thought for a moment, and then remembered all the information was on the refrigerator. “You can come in; I just need to check the info on the fridge quick.” She didn’t normally invite strangers in, but the man seemed harmless, and he was just doing his job. She walked into the kitchen, looked at the calendar, and glanced at the following week. As she walked back into the living room, she told the man that they should be back within the next five days.
“Alright, well thanks for your time. I’ll stop back then,” he stated with a smile. His straight white teeth gleamed in the summer sunlight, and Jane wooed a bit on the inside. He left the house and walked across the street to his white SUV, got in, and drove away. Jane shut the door and plopped onto her couch, turning the television on. She flipped through the channels, stopping on the college basketball game. She fell asleep again, trying to fall back into the dream with Brad Pitt, but with no avail.
Jane woke up a few hours later, surprised at the time. It was almost ten thirty, and she had plans to get drunk and watch the NBA game, which was almost halfway over. She ran into the kitchen and made herself a stiff drink, adding perhaps a bit too much liquor into the mix. She sat down on the couch and started her infamous solo drinking game: take a drink every time a basket is made. By the end of the game, which went into overtime, Jane was trashed. She stumbled up the stairs to her room and passed out in her bed, hoping that a hangover was not in her future.
She woke up the next morning and opened her eyes, trying to stretch her arms, but finding that she was unable to. She turned her head and looked at her arms, noticing that there were straps bound to her wrists, attached to the bedposts. She looked down towards her immobile feet and realized that she was completely naked, tied spread eagle on the bed. There was rope wrapped around her legs right above her knees, pulling them to the edge of the bed, and another rope was wrapped in the same fashion right below her elbows. She was completely unable to move her body, and she had no idea how she had gotten there. A cold chill went down her spine as she saw a pair of white Oakley sunglasses on her dresser.
Jane's Weekend Part I
“Finally, a weekend at the house without the twins being here!” thought Jane as she walked through the kitchen, grabbing a glass of orange juice from the counter. She glided into the living room and sat down on the couch facing the television. She flipped the television on, looking for something to watch while she waited for her hot pocket to be done cooking. She stopped on the local news channel when she saw the face of a girl she went to school with in the upper corner of the screen. She quickly turned the volume up and leaned forward, trying to find out what the story was about.
“…but her whereabouts are unknown at this time. She was last seen at a Starbucks, talking to an unidentified man. Staff members at Starbucks have said he has short dark hair, a piercing in his left ear, has light stubble, and was wearing a pair of white Oakley sunglasses on his head. If anyone has any other information, please call the station immediately.”
Jane shut the television off, quickly remembering back to high school. It had been a few years, but she knew who the girl was. Susan Yearling. Jane was only a year older than her, but she remembered that Susan was on the soccer team and was quite popular. Jane was popular as well, but the younger girls were very cliquey, and never associated with the older students. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed her hot pocket, munching it as she wandered upstairs to her room.
She opened the door to her room and flopped onto her queen sized bed. Sunlight flooded the room, illuminating the light blue walls covered with paintings she had created over the years. She closed the curtains and pulled off her tight yellow t-shirt, tossing it onto one of the bed posts. She slid out of her shorts and stood in front of the full length mirror in the corner of her room, examining her barely clothed body. She slid her hand across her flat stomach, toned from the many years of basketball she had played. She was very fit, and had always liked to work out and stay in shape. Her heaving bosom spilled out from her white lace bra as she leaned forward; making the sexy poses she usually did when she was alone in front of the mirror. She turned around and peeked over her shoulder, making a surprised face at herself in the mirror. Her boy shorts fit her ass perfectly—the guys always loved catching a glimpse of her killer body.
Now that she was alone in the house, an idea fluttered through her mind. She unsnapped her bra and tossed it onto the floor. She slid out of her underwear, letting them sit at her feet. The cold air from her air conditioner made her nipples stand erect, and a cold chill travelled down her spine. She stood in front of the mirror, posing naked, thinking about how much she wish she had a boyfriend. She had always been a closet nympho, but had never been able to keep a boyfriend long enough to do anything crazy. She skipped over to her desk and grabbed her camera, taking a few glamour shots of her gorgeous naked body. She placed the camera back on her desk and hopped into her bed, ready for a long nap. After a few minutes, she was fast asleep.
The doorbell jolted her out of an intense dream with Brad Pitt, which made her slightly upset. After all, you almost always get woken up at the best part of the dream. She got out of bed and put on her t-shirt and a pair of sweats as the doorbell rang again. “What the fuck, I’m coming, give me a second!” she yelled as she bounded down the stairs.
She opened the door, and a man in an expensive looking suit stood on her porch with a pad of paper. He had short hair and a few days of stubble on his face, and Jane stuttered when she greeted him, thrown off by his stunning good looks. “Uh, hi. What’s up?”
“Sorry to bother you, miss, but my company is doing an impromptu survey in the area, and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?”
“Yeah, sure. Shoot.” Jane said, standing with her arms crossed, skillfully covering her most likely visible nipples. Good call with the light yellow shirt, she thought.
“This shouldn’t take long. Are you the owner of the house?” he asked, pulling a pen out of his inner pocket.
“Nope. I live with two other girls, but they went on vacation this week. They own the house, I just live with them.” Jane said.
“Alright, well do you know when they will be back? My company needs to know a few things about the house, and we are required to talk to the person who pays the mortgage. Nothing against you, just company policy.” He said with a smile. He was very charismatic—no wonder he was their leading man in the street.
Jane thought for a moment, and then remembered all the information was on the refrigerator. “You can come in; I just need to check the info on the fridge quick.” She didn’t normally invite strangers in, but the man seemed harmless, and he was just doing his job. She walked into the kitchen, looked at the calendar, and glanced at the following week. As she walked back into the living room, she told the man that they should be back within the next five days.
“Alright, well thanks for your time. I’ll stop back then,” he stated with a smile. His straight white teeth gleamed in the summer sunlight, and Jane wooed a bit on the inside. He left the house and walked across the street to his white SUV, got in, and drove away. Jane shut the door and plopped onto her couch, turning the television on. She flipped through the channels, stopping on the college basketball game. She fell asleep again, trying to fall back into the dream with Brad Pitt, but with no avail.
Jane woke up a few hours later, surprised at the time. It was almost ten thirty, and she had plans to get drunk and watch the NBA game, which was almost halfway over. She ran into the kitchen and made herself a stiff drink, adding perhaps a bit too much liquor into the mix. She sat down on the couch and started her infamous solo drinking game: take a drink every time a basket is made. By the end of the game, which went into overtime, Jane was trashed. She stumbled up the stairs to her room and passed out in her bed, hoping that a hangover was not in her future.
She woke up the next morning and opened her eyes, trying to stretch her arms, but finding that she was unable to. She turned her head and looked at her arms, noticing that there were straps bound to her wrists, attached to the bedposts. She looked down towards her immobile feet and realized that she was completely naked, tied spread eagle on the bed. There was rope wrapped around her legs right above her knees, pulling them to the edge of the bed, and another rope was wrapped in the same fashion right below her elbows. She was completely unable to move her body, and she had no idea how she had gotten there. A cold chill went down her spine as she saw a pair of white Oakley sunglasses on her dresser.
