1 Caught Red Handed
This is purely a work of smut. I, the author do not, by writing this intend to express any of my beliefs, it is purely for entertainment. That said, while there is a sexual tone to the first chapter, the real fun will start in chapter 2, so have fun.
Chapter 1
Nick had always had interesting hobbies. In fact, that was practically his calling card. Hardly a day went by without him being embroiled in some niche timewaster. Now that he was in his early twenties, that drive to try something new and feel something different became something of an obsession. It may be what drove him to drop out of college, leaving his dreams of engineering behind. This didn't quench his thirst, however. In fact, it drove him to more and more dangerous behaviors.
At first, he took up hill bombing without a second's experience on a skateboard. He eventually mastered it, but not before an ill fated attempt landed him in the emergency room. Then, of course, he tried fire breathing. Luckily for his face, this one was far more intuitive to him than skateboarding.
Soon, at the urging of his family and friends, he began to search for less dangerous diversions. One of his roommates bought him a set of lock picks, and every evening, after his shift at a local convenience store, Nick could be found hunched over a new lock at the dining room table, working away at a new lock.
Soon, he became good at his new hobby. He had it down to an art and carried lock picks everywhere. That is what began to give him the idea for an incredible thrill. One evening, Nick's mind was incredibly high on a heady mixture of boredom and caffeine and scrolling through video after video was only making him more and more antsy. Eventually, his eyes lit upon his lock picks. He snatched them up and headed out the door.
There was a house next door where an incredibly attractive girl named Lavender lived. She worked the evening shift at the same convenience store Nick worked at, so he knew she would not be home yet. Without even giving himself time to reconsider, he walked over to her house, looked both ways across the street to make sure nobody was outside watching, then knelt down and set to work on the lock.
His idea was simply to experience what a real forced entry would feel like without any of the risk of getting caught, arrested, etc. His heart was racing with adrenaline as he put the tension wrench in the keyhole and began to apply pressure. He held it with his thimb and slid the hook pick inside, setting the pins one after another until the lock rotated with a satisfying click. He stood up, checked the street one more time, and turned the knob.
At this point, his hands were shaking, and his breath was ragged with the taboo excitement of having broke into someone's house. He looked around. It was a small house with only a few rooms. Although Lavender seemed to really embrace the goth aesthetic in her personal appearance, it seemed like her connecting kitchen and living room were actually rather ordinary.
Tans and whites dominated the decor, and tge kitchen was neat except for the beginnings of a pile of dishes in the sink. Groups of unknown herbs hung drying on the walls. On one wall close to him, a framed picture of Lavender hugging a tall, muscular man with a sleeve of Celtic looking tattoos hung conspicuously.
Nick looked closely at the picture. Lavender looked happy to be with the man. Giddy might even be the correct word. In contrast, the man looked almost bored. His heavily lidded eyes seemed to smolder out of the picture in a way that made Nick uncomfortable.
Anxious to get rid of the feeling, Nick took the nearest door and swung it open, walking into the room. He was taken aback by what he saw. Lavender's room was dominated by her large bed, unmade, with manacles dangling on chains from each of the bedposts. Above the headboard, a several hooks extended dangling with a large selection of collars and leashes. The room was dark, and was lit only by purple mood lights and a matching purple lava lamp.
Nick walked tentatively to a nightstand and saw a stack of photos. He picked them up and his heart again started pounding like he was on the last leg of a marathon.
The pictures all prominently featured Lavender in provocative photos (most commonly either on her knees or on all fours) modeling a variety of lingerie. Nick began to feel a tightness in his pants seeing his coworker like that, sometimes even with her mouth open as if she were begging.
In some of the photos, the man from the photograph in the living roomwas stdnding behind her, resting his hand either on her head or shoulder, possessively. One particular photo, where he was holding Lavender's leash intrigued him greatly. He flipped it over and saw one word written in cursive on the back: Master~<3.
Just as he saw that, Nick heard the door open and shut. His heart jumped and he dropped the stack of photos. He heard a soft cough, then, "Whoever's here, you better show yourself now before things get ugly!"
Nick panicked and threw himself into the open closet, shutting the door behind him much louder than he had intended. It was Lavender's voice, and she was angry.
"I don't know what you think you're doing in my house, but you picked the wrong one."
Suddenly it hit Nick. Of course, he hadn't locked the door back. He swore under his breath as he heard the steps enter the bedroom.
"Oh, I see. Looking at my dirty photos? Are you some kind of stalker? Well, you went way too far."
Her voice had gone from threatening to scoffing and demeaning in a heartbeat. Nick found himself terrified, nestling deeper into the fabrics in the back of her closet.
"There's nowhere you could go," she said in an almost faux-patient voice. "I'll give you one more chance to show yourself peacefully."
With a ragged sigh, Nick opened the closet and walked out. He had half expected to see Lavender standing there with a gun or something, but instead, she stood there with the same distressed jeans and black polo that made up her work attire, looking smug, but also slightly sick.
She coughed again. "Nick? I'm suprised. I thought you were better than this."
Nick was speechless, and just stood there shamefully, feeling a bit childish.
"Why, Nick?"
"I-I didn't mean anything by it, I just git really into locks and I—"
She clucked her tongue, sounding disappointed. "I don't want to hear it." She raised a hand up toward his face. "SLEEP."
That word was spoken in a tone that rang through Nick's mind, and he slumped to the ground, insensate.
