It was to be a treat that he wouldn't forget. She'd been a bit mean to him the past month or so, mainly because they'd been strapped for money and hadn't been able to go out. None of it had been his fault but just before he'd gone away, she'd managed to nag him out of the house. She'd followed up with a unpleasant phone call to the hotel that his conference was being held in and he'd got mad with her and hung up.

She knew she was just being cranky and when he was away she started to miss him really quickly. Not phoning him had at first seemed to satisfy her smugness but as the days passed she missed speaking to him more and more. Eventually, she relented and phoned to apologise, and he'd accepted it graciously enough, but she knew she had to make up for it too. It was only fair, after she'd hounded him out of the house and then phoned him to chase him further about a matter that was hardly his fault.

She'd been into town, and picked up a few nice items that she was sure he'd enjoy later. The first wages after a period of tight finances were always going to be hit by a spending spree and general frugality, and she'd spent enough for a year. He was due back sometime tonight and had called only to give a time. At the moment he had called her, she'd been standing in front of a display of lingerie, but she tried her hardest not to give anything away to him. He'd caught on to her more pleasant tone, though, and they were immediately more loving to each other, signing off with "Love you's".

She emptied the bags that she'd carried upstairs onto the bed. There was everything there to make a man happy and a few more things that, she thought to herself in the privacy of her head, were a bit more `specialist'. She knew that he'd appreciate them, though. He'd gone on about trying them in the past, and she'd always vetoed the idea or put him off for another day.

She checked the time on the bedside clock and started getting ready. The first stop was a very thorough shower, using every fragrant-smelling substance she could find in the bathroom. She shaved and, knowing it would soon become a special occasion, took off every hair that she could find. She didn't like doing it normally, it could be itchy when it grew back, but she knew he deserved it.

She washed everywhere as best she could, and made sure to get a favourite scent on her hair from the shampoo. He loved the smell of this particular one and she'd often use it if there was a possibility that he would be loving and cuddle into her neck. After the shower, she went upstairs and sat naked in the bedroom in front of her dresser. She carefully and calmly applied the make-up as best she could. He loved it when she did her eyeshadow properly, fading into the colour subtly from all directions. She even remembered him saving an image of a particularly pretty girl on his PC, where she'd had the eyeshadow run to points on the side of her head, so it looked like she was looking out from a mask.

Although she'd had a few years of professional practice with make-up, she wasn't going to get that elaborate tonight. There were things she intended to do which would spoil anything too advanced. But she knew that he hated cheap-looking make-up, so she avoided the garish reds and the horrible purples and went for a subtle, shiny lipstick. After she'd spent some time subtly blending, highlighting and dusting, and had dried and curled her hair, she turned her attention to her clothes.

She stood in front of the bed and carefully picked individual items, getting into the mood and feeling tinges of sexiness as she put each of them on. Some wonderfully silky black knickers, that ended high and strappy at the sides but hid anything too enticing behind a smooth, soft, triangle of fabric. No lace or see-through, she knew. He said that the first felt like old rags with its uneven texture and the second wasn't worth the effort to put on. He liked touch best of all, so smooth and silky was the order of the day. A delicate, tiny pink bow at the top was just enough to add a touch of cuteness to them.

Next, some new black stockings. She sat on the bed and put them on, as enticingly as she would have done if he were in the room. She let the length of her legs pull them into shape as she held the tops, smoothing them slowly as she went. They ended, just below that point where they would disappear under a skimpy skirt, with a lacy design. Here, he said, it was the look of the thing that mattered but she'd still managed to find a pair that had a lacy-looking topping but which felt almost perfectly smooth all the way up.

Then she picked up and, with a little difficulty, donned a black satin corset. This felt incredible, even to her, and had panels of smooth black fabric which, when she tugged on the laces as hard as she could and still breath, mirrored every curve of her body. He would spend at least ten minutes just holding her by her sides wearing this, she knew. It also accentuated her breasts, pushing them up with its smooth cups. He would love touching the bare tops of them, too. She attached the stockings to the clips on the corset, more for the look of the thing than for any support.

Between her legs, there was just enough of a gap between the bottom of her corset and the top of her knickers to show some of her skin. Long, silky, black gloves completed the clothing side of the outfit and she preened them herself a few times. Even now, she knew, the inside of her underwear was moist with anticipation. She denied herself pleasure for the moment, knowing that he would more than make up for it when he arrived home.

She stood and admired herself in the mirror, straightening out a wrinkle in the stockings here, brushing a strand of her hair back there. She had some high heels waiting but she'd leave them until last because they weren't his favourite part anyway, and she had yet to make it downstairs.

She scooped the rest of her purchases into a bag, picked up her high heels from the floor, and walked downstairs. At the bottom of the staircase was a hallway and, at the end, the door to the front porch. Unlike the big verandas that some Americans called porches, this was merely a small room, like a cloakroom, that had two doors - one to the rest of the house, one to the outside world.

The front door was made of frosted glass, and she could see the fading light of the early evening as the street lights came on. The interior door was plain glass. This allowed the light into the porch from both sides. She had cleared it of its normal detritus, coats, umbrellas, a small table and the odd tool, especially for this occasion. There was nothing in it now but a hardwood floor, the coat hooks and a framed picture of some flowers on its painted walls.

It was already starting to get dark outside and she thought it would be a perfect time to test out her idea. Before entering the porch, she grabbed a large black sheet of fabric from the floor that she'd cut and set aside specially. Holding it in front of her, hands above her head, it obscured her entire body and she walked forward and hung it on the hooks inside the outer door where normally a beaded curtain or cheap fly screen would hang. This blacked out the doorway from anybody outside seeing her, although she admitted to herself a slight thrill about casually walking around the house dressed as she was.

The porch was still lit by the light from the interior door, giving her just enough illumination as she set to work. She fetched the bag she had brought downstairs and emptied it on the porch floor. Some of the things in there were new even to her, but she didn't baulk at the idea of any of them. She'd always enjoyed "sexy", but "kinky" was a precious commodity that she tried to save up for special occasions. Tonight she would try to merge both.

He'd often mention things that interested him, whether it was a photo of a particularly pretty girl, or a movie he'd downloaded, or something he'd seen in a catalogue. They had pretty similar tastes and he hadn't yet suggested anything too unusual but there were a lot of things that they'd both agreed they should try and never got around to actually doing so. It was time to let one or two exciting ideas loose. She knew that she'd probably gone overboard in an attempt to compensate him but she planned to take things as far as she felt comfortable.

She carefully knelt down on the floor, making sure not to catch her stockings, and examined the items one by one. The blindfold was perfect. It was the identical material to her corset, she thought, and the two wide black ribbons on its side sat perfectly straight around her hair when she had tried it on in the shop's changing room, where she had peeked out from under one corner at the double-mirror to get the full effect. She'd leave that for now because she wanted to see what else she had.

The handcuffs still worried her a bit, not because they were too inelegant, but because the only other pair she'd ever used were pink fluffy things that someone had bought her for a joke and which, inevitably, they had tried one night. Although they had held, they weren't exactly the strongest of items and she knew she could break out of them if necessary. These pair, however, were more serious. She still had doubts about them because they didn't quite fit the classy, elegant and sexy look she was going for, but she'd bought a large amount of black silky ribbon to mask them or replace them if necessary.

The newest, and most strange, item to her was the gag. She wasn't averse to the occasional bit of kink but this was something way different to what she would normally choose. However, he believed that it would go well when he had described one particular fantasy and, after all, it was supposed to be his night. If she felt uncomfortable in it, she could always just leave it out tonight. But, if nothing else, she believed it might be symbolic. Tonight, he was in control. She needed to be silent. He didn't need to be nagged tonight. He would appreciate the gesture and understand it, she felt. Besides, she didn't expect to be wearing it for long once he was home. It was in the way of one of her best assets.

This gag was as close as she could get to one she had seen in a movie he had shown her. It had a large, red ball and two small black straps. The straps were so thin as to be closer to cords. She had worried when buying it that they might demonstrate the same problem as her pink handcuffs - if they were too flimsy and snapped halfway through, it would spoil the mood. However, in the privacy of a shop changing-room, she had undone the packet and tugged as hard as she could on the cord and couldn't even make it stretch, let alone break. There was no way it was going to disrupt their enjoyment and it was much more subtle than a huge leather strap, which she'd feel uncomfortable with. It was so hard to find toys that weren't obscene-looking or tacky, she thought.

It being her first ever time with a gag, she tested it gingerly. First, she grasped it by the two cords and brought it to her mouth. After a false start, she managed to get it into her mouth and with her hands pulling behind her head she was able to get it into a comfortable position, the main radius of the ball sitting just behind her teeth. Brushing her hair to the outside of the cords, she then pulled them behind her head and tightened them into a strong knot, ending it with the prettiest bow she could manage without seeing behind her head.

She touched the front of the ball, feeling her lips all around it, and straightened the cord as it went under her hair. She didn't have a mirror available down here so she just had to guess. After a few seconds, she felt herself drooling but she had read that it was normal to do so and although it felt uncomfortable, it could be managed. This was one of the reasons she'd started with the gag early on, so that she could get used to the feel of it, see if it started to hurt her and to test the most unknown item more.

She tried to speak through the gag and was impressed at the restriction it posed on speech. Although she could be heard, it was mainly through the vibration of her throat and any attempt at speech would be unintelligible. She tried to open her mouth a little wider and couldn't. She tried to push the ball out with her tongue and found it impossible to move. She was sure he'd love it. She kept it on as she continued to try to get used to the sensation, occasionally fingering it.

Next she grabbed some of her new vibrators. These were all still new in the packet and she found herself having to walk to the kitchen to get a pair of scissors. It was only when she got back to the sealed packets that she realised what a sight people would have seen through the kitchen window. She had left the kitchen lights on deliberately earlier but hadn't thought that she'd walk back through the kitchen once she was dressed up. A fleeting flash of excitement ran through her. She cut the packaging away from the vibrators and threw it just inside the house to dispose of when she next passed. Mentally, she promised herself to not shy away from the kitchen window when she disposed of it, the thrill of which excited her.

Kneeling to the floor again, tucking both legs under her, she quickly arranged the small array of sexual weapons. Fortunately, they all came with batteries, and she was able to play with them all and find out what the various switches and remotes did. She toyed with the idea of testing them further but mentally restrained herself, knowing that she wouldn't find playtime as exciting if she started now. She only allowed herself a few brief spurts of vibration on the outside of her underwear to get a feel for the unique sensation of each model.

There was a small purple butterfly, a large vibrating egg and a small vibrating "plug" (although she detested the word because it could not be said discretely or sexily). All of them had remote controls. And, the pièce de résistance, a large mains-powered vibrator that was too big to be used internally and, although it took both hands to hold, ended with a large ball which vibrated with some of the most powerful shivers she'd ever felt. If she held it in her hand and tried to stop it, it would vibrate her entire arm. Fortunately, the shop had been giving customers a feel of a "demo" one that she was allowed to touch while the assistant held it and flicked through the various modes. If she'd tried it on herself first, she might well have had quite a shock at the power of the thing.

She plugged it into the only power socket in the porch. Her eyes widened at the initial pulse - she must have turned it on while she was getting it out of the packet. She couldn't resist having a feel of it in her hand on full power and the force of the vibrations made her squirm with delight and anticipation.

She covered everything she could with liberal amounts of the gel she had bought, which smelled fantastic, but which an earlier test had told her tasted slightly artificial. She didn't mind, she didn't expect to be the one tasting it and if she was, she could easily overcome the slight taste with that of the other tastes and odours present.

She checked the clock in the hall, which was just visible from the floor of the porch if she leaned back and held the internal door open. She didn't have long but she wanted to be very careful and have everything in place. Still kneeling, she parted her legs and leant forward slightly. She removed one of her satin gloves and, gingerly, she daubed her finger with some gel and applied as much as she could between her legs, pulling her knickers away from her with her gloved hand in order to keep them as dry as possible.

She picked up the egg and very slowly and carefully, trying not to enjoy the feelings too much, placed it against her lips and pushed it to its widest point. Keeping it in place with two fingers, she took a deep breath through her nose and then encouraged it to move inside. She felt herself close around it and a surge of hormones suddenly took hold of her. She breathed to calm herself, closing her eyes. Not yet.

The "other thing" would be more awkward. Using one hand to part her cheeks and to hold her underwear to one side, she used the other to gently probe with the plug behind her, until she thought she found the right spot. It wasn't her first time having something there but it had only been once and it hadn't been a toy. It had also been several years ago. She didn't find much to appreciate in that area, it was more the joy of the unknown and the forbidden. But she knew that, even if the plug were her only companion, she would feel a wave of excitement knowing it was there. If tonight was successful she was planning on wearing it outdoors one day, like she had done in the past with butterfly and egg vibrators similar to the ones she'd bought today.

This toy took much longer for her to fully insert. Every few seconds, she would breath and try to relax her muscles, allowing it to inch its way in slowly. She thought that she must be nearing its apex when she felt along its length and found she was hardly halfway to its widest point. She carefully removed it, and here her muscles helped as they tried to eject it for her, brought it in front of her and dribbled more gel onto it from the bottle which she held at head height. It left a pool of gel on the floor but the plug was soaked too.

The second attempt seemed to go smoother, even if it felt much colder with so much gel on it, and she eventually managed to get it near the apex after several pauses and deep breaths. Splaying her legs out to the sides underneath her, she slowly lowered her bottom to the floor and then, pulling her legs up in front of her and tilting back slightly, she let the hard floor push it inside her. She felt the pop of the apex passing through, her gasp turning into a mumble beneath the ball, and then suddenly it shifted completely inside her, resting with its flared base just outside.

She wiggled slightly from side to side to make sure it was in. It wasn't as uncomfortable as she thought it might be, and certainly wasn't anywhere near as painful as her only other experience in that area, which had been done with only natural lubrication available.

She stood up carefully, pulled her glove on again and adjusted her underwear to cover her backside. She hobbled around a little until she got used to the feeling. Even once she was more confident and able to stride purposefully again, the crude feeling of the base rubbing against her cheeks made her feel incredibly? naughty was too nice a word, kinky wouldn't describe it properly either. It was that wonderful feeling of knowing that you were doing things that nobody who knew you well would ever expect of you. A change of personality, almost. Revealing the hidden desires.

All that was left for now was the vibrating butterfly. That was merely a matter of bending down to pick it up (she quickly learned that bending down with a plug in is something that should be done very carefully and it was ill-advised to rush) and gently tucking it into the inside of her underwear. She moved it into position through the fabric, shifting it gently into the optimum place against her clitoris.

She didn't dare turn any of them on yet, because she wasn't at all sure that she'd be willing to turn them off again. Still standing, she bent over carefully again, this time finding the experience of having to resist pushing the plug out comical. She deliberately bent over with her legs held straight and tried to imagine what she looked like from behind. He particularly enjoyed that move because years of training meant she was able to lay her hands flat on the floor without bending her knees, showing the full length of her long legs. It was more difficult in a corset but she still had no problems picking up the largest, mains-powered vibrator, moving to one wall and, again deliberately keeping her legs straight, placing it on the floor, with its vibrating end pointing towards the wall.

She tugged the lead out of the way so that it ran straight to the wall and along it. Standing up and unconsciously rubbing her thighs and hips with her gloved hands, she ran through the list of things that there remained to do. She had to get the order right or it wouldn't work. She found that she couldn't leave herself alone and had to forcibly remove her hands from her body.

She removed the empty bag from the porch, leaving just the remaining few items on the floor. She gathered up the packaging of her toys, filled with obscene images and coarsely translated instructions and made her way to the kitchen bin. She hesitated slightly as she entered the brightly-lit room but then forced herself out into the open, where she would be visible through the window. There would have to be a very unlucky series of events for anyone to see her through such angles as the garden walls and window position allowed but it was possible and that gave her a thrill.

Once out in the middle of the room, she slowed and gave a very knowledgeable show of sexiness as she walked to the bin, bent over as much as she could and at the best angle she could for any voyeurs. She subconsciously rubbed her legs again and startled herself a little when she smoothed her underwear across her backside and felt the square edges of the plug underneath them. This was definitely a toy she should have tried earlier.

She stood up slowly and walked back to the comfort of the darkness, all the time imagining an external view of herself, the plug showing through her sexiest underwear, the gag firmly in place. On entering the shadows of the hallway again, she looked to the ceiling in ecstasy and moaned. If the gag hadn't prevented it, she would have said something like "Oh my God, that was a fantastic feeling". Instead she settled on just an exasperated groan of enjoyment.

What else was left? She had to think carefully. She entered the dark porch again and swept everything that was left to one side with her feet. This one was more for her, but he would unconsciously benefit from it. She spread the rose petals she had bought over the entire porch and most of the hallway, like a bridesmaid at a wedding. It was a girly touch but it would register deep within his brain, if only to confirm her intentions and feelings.

She removed the keys from each item that locked and placed them on the floor at the base of the main stairs inside the hallway. She spent some time taking one key from her own house keyring and placed it, using what was fast becoming her favourite manoeuvre of bending to show the full extent of her legs, on the floor inside the porch. The rest of the keyring, she tucked away out of sight. She took a sheet of decorated notepaper from the telephone stand in the hall and, using her best calligraphic handwriting, wrote a short note on it. This she placed in the porch too.

She put on her high heels. These ones were particular favourites of his because they had wide black ribbons attached which laced up her leg - he wasn't keen on the high heels themselves but the effect of smooth black ribbon against a shapely leg sent him wild. For some reason, he found that look highly erotic. They made her even taller and the change in angle of her legs make them look longer still.

Time was approaching, so she quickly double-checked the order and then knelt once again in the porch. This time, she knelt with her back to the wall, one leg either side of the large vibrator already on the floor. She touched and arranged various objects, getting them within comfortable reach. She took two deep breaths, hindered slightly by the gag and tiny beads of sweat which ran from her forehead in the anticipation of what was to come.

She knew that, once she tore the black curtain down, there was a direct view of her in the porch, even through the frosted glass. There was no escaping it, anything that was in there could be seen by any passer-by so long as they looked carefully from every angle. Her testing the previous night also told her that, from the outside at night, nothing could be seen of the inside of the porch so long as it was dark in there too. She'd left the kitchen light on because, by the time the light reached the porch via the hallway, it was little more than a highlight to the darkness and allowed her to see inside the porch but still not be seen from outside.

She took a black bar from the floor. On each end, there was a loop of Velcro-backed padding for her ankles. Rolling onto her bottom again (and stupidly forgetting about the plug which plunged in further before she jolted up and allowed it to find its natural resting place again), she tied one ankle into one of the loops, as tightly as she could manage. On her knees for the second loop, she managed to get her other ankle through it and to adjust the loops to a comfortable pressure. The design meant that the undoing of them would require a free hand to reach underneath her leg.

Sitting on her forced-apart ankles, she touched each of the remaining items. Sure that she had everything, she shuffled forward on her knees and closed the interior door. Using the key from her keyring, she locked it. With more than a hint of trepidation, and a very deep breath which seemed to make her whole body tense and tingle, she posted the key underneath the door. She was now inside the porch with no way to get back in until he arrived. Her safety escape, which she really, really, hoped she would never have to use, would be the front door but that meant a lot of odd stares and explanation. If something should catch fire inside, though, better mortally embarrassed than dead.

Her heart started to race as the full implications of her welcome hit her. She was impeccably tied into doing it now, no matter what. In front of her, she arranged the remote controls to all her toys on top of her note, which read "I am yours. Enjoy me.". And she placed their digital camera, to one side of it. Fresh batteries, a large, empty memory card (clearly marked with an obvious sticker to prevent them leaving it lying around or lending to other people) beside it. And he knew how to make it film video too, which she didn't.

She scrambled to her feet and hobbled to the front door, one leg at a time. Although she could close her knees quite easily, the feeling of the device separating her ankles was fantastically erotic to her. She twitched aside a corner of the black curtain. Outside, she judged, was dark enough now. His timing was perfect for this, even though he didn't know what she had planned. She looked down at her feet and saw that virtually no light came in from outside, the areas exposed to the streetlight were just as dark as those covered by the curtain's shadow.

Convinced of this, she stood as far to one side as she could (although she knew that, even behind the frosted glass, she could be seen standing at any angle if she could be seen at all), she unhitched the curtain, folded it neatly and laid it on the floor beside her. The full force of what she was doing hit her as she looked out at the dark street and she desperately needed to make her excitement subside. Once, she'd had an orgasm just by having a very special man kiss her passionately. Once, she'd had an orgasm just by hearing someone's voice speaking passionate words from a foreign telephone. But this was entirely capable of pushing her over the edge without any sort of contact with another human being, or herself.

The last piece of the puzzle, a length of black ribbon, tested for strength by herself in many previous escapades, was taken up. She hooked it over a coat hook immediately above where she intended to stay for the foreseeable future. This was more for show, but she had often allowed him to tie her up with it. And, once, after a particularly energetic session, he had taken her still-tied hands and the excess ribbon, using it as a lover's leash to move her into a kneeling position on the floor, hands held in front of her. The eroticism of the gesture had overcome all her exhaustions of the time.

After some mishaps, she knelt for the last time, over the top of the vibrator. She hovered several inches above it, the sensation of that toy was one of those that was best in small doses. Behind her, her ankles were bound together at a distance. In the middle of that bar was a single ring which, when she was kneeling, lingered close to the position of her plug. She took the two ends of the ribbon which hung from the coat hook and tied them behind her through the same ring, pulling as tight as she could manage and feeling first the bar and then her ankles raise as she did so. She didn't intend to elevate herself, merely restrict her movement, and she knew that she could untie that knot if need be.

She reached to her side and turned the power switch on. Beneath her, the vibrator rumbled away on full power and she had to trap it with her knees to stop it migrating away from her across the floor. She took a pair of handcuffs from in front of her, then, changing her mind, grabbed the blindfold instead. She tied it about her head and felt scared at the prospect that maybe now she could be seen from outside. No, she knew. She tested. She was okay. It's natural to panic when your freedom is removed and you could be caught in an embarrassing situation. She couldn't help but think though that if she were caught out, she would be more likely to climax than to blush.

She reached forward again, restricted in how far she could move by the ribbon, and took the handcuffs from the floor. She clicked one onto her left wrist and, reaching blindly behind herself, clicked the other end onto the ring of the bar too, tying that arm behind her. She tested her movement and was able to shuffle a little still and to lean forward a little before her arm made her legs come up too. She placed the other pair of handcuffs on her wrist, one ring locked over her remaining arm. Moaning unconsciously under the gag, she leant forward and felt for the remote controls, scrabbling blindly with only the scrape of the handcuffs on the floor to tell her when she was nearing it.

Eventually she found them all, turning them on one by one - the butterfly, the plug and the egg. She fought hard to beat the urge to orgasm immediately and possibly the most wilful act she ever performed was to put her arm behind her and scrabble furiously for almost a minute until the second loop of the handcuffs met with a click on the same ring on her spreader bar. Something buzzed behind her, something buzzed on her clitoris, something buzzed inside her and, more than once, in her frustrated struggles she leant too far forward and caught the full blast of the mains-vibrator. But now she was secure. There was no escaping now. The best should would manage would be to untie the ribbon and, with some hobbling and her blind hands reaching behind her, possibly open the front door. The handcuffs and spreader bar just allowed enough leeway, if she pivoted forward on her knees, to let her get her hands up to the handle.

Blindfolded. Gagged. Her hands both locked behind her to a bar keeping her ankles apart. Locked in a room, her only exit out onto a public street. Hidden only by the darkness of the room. Vibrators churning in every orifice, and her most sensitive spots, all the controls out of her reach. Dressed in her most sensuous attire, a note to let him know he could do as he pleased. A camera on standby, good for a thousand photos and hours of video. She needed to have an orgasm. The slightest bend forward, and she caught the mains vibrator head on, pushing it into the butterfly, which transferred the double-sensation to her favourite orgasmic device, her clitoris.

Time passed, and the orgasms merged. She barely had the strength to lift herself off the vibrator and the room buzzed with the sounds of pleasure being dispensed, and the moans and muffled screams of it being received. She didn't care any more. She didn't care who saw her or what state she was in. The world could go hang so long as the batteries lasted and the power stayed on. She grew louder, until her throat ached, and at the end of a particularly large (and judging by the feeling of the vibrator, particularly wet) orgasm, she forced herself off it to pause for breath. As her breathing calmed a little, she thought she heard a noise from inside the house.

She had. It was the phone. The phone was ringing. Another orgasm. No. The phone. Reality for a second. It was probably him, ringing to tell her he was only moments away. She listened over the buzz and throbbing of the multitude of devices. Eventually, the answering machine took the call.

"Hello, darling, it's me. I am on my way?"

Yes, yes. The whole point of the exercise was about to arrive. And he'll save me from this infernal, fabulous machinery. He'll be so pleased. I wish I could see his face when he walks in. But that would spoil the point. One more orgasm before he comes. No! Oh? why not? Yes, then I'll be nice and ready to receive him. She sat back on the vibrator.

"? but there's a bit of a jam up here. The police have blocked the road. They say nobody's to go through. Some idiot spilled his load on the road."

A smirk came through the small hint of panic within her. No matter. It just means more orgasms before he comes.

"They say we might be stuck here for the night. They won't let us move on or leave the car here. So I'm going to sleep in the car. I've still got most of the way to go too. I'll probably see you around noon, if that's okay. Okay, love you. Bye."

It was a few seconds before the words registered in her over-excited mind. Noon. Noon. NOON! That's nearly a day away. It's hours. It's? I can't work out how many with all this buzzing inside me? too hard to concentrate. It's hours and hours, though. All night, like this. All night. Even if I move off the vibrator and undo the ribbon, I still can't escape the rest of it. NOON! I can't last that long? I can't.. Oh no, here's another? NOOOOOOOON! She screamed into the gag as she came again.

She had the sense to jolt herself off the vibrator so that it buzzed harmlessly against her throbbing legs, which were still in spasm from the orgasm. It would be easier to resist the other toys but nowhere near actually being easy. Especially that damn butterfly. Sense returned and she was able to pull herself back up to a kneeling position. Noon. Hold on. Noon. Daylight. DAYLIGHT! In full view! In full?

NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! I can't. It can't. I can't be seen tied like this! I can't be seen dressed like this! I've been so careful to plan it all. I've tested and tested, so that it wouldn't come to that. Even behind the frosted glass, anyone who was close enough could see at least a rough idea of her predicament. In the dark, she was safe but in the daylight, she'd be the very outline of a tied, helpless woman, bound to pleasure.

Everyone loves the idea of being found but nobody would actually want to be found. Not by someone that might know you anyway. Oh my God! There's nothing I can do but wait. Nothing. Unless I just run out there now and get it over with, find a neighbour or someone to untie me. No, I can't. I can't! Oh, God. Think, think.

She pored over the details of her predicament, interrupted at long intervals by orgasms and fits of screaming denial into her gag. She had the night. She had until the sun came up to work out a way. She could do it. Even if it meant struggling half the night, all she needed was to get one wrist free. She could do it if she wriggled enough, she was sure. It wouldn't be easy but she could do it.

On the cusp of another, much more reluctant, orgasm another sound hit her over the hum of the vibrators. A tiny click. The colour of her blindfold changed in front of her eyes.

What the??

The?

No. NO! The porch light! It comes on at eight. It stays on until the morning. I'm in FULL VIEW. Full view of everyone. For hours. And hours. Until he comes and lets me out, or they send the police to haul me out! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO....