The corellas serenaded the piccanniny dawn from their roosts high in the red gums along the creek that ran past the bottom of the block. Their raucous noise filtered through the mists of Angie’s consciousness, reawakening her many aches and reminding her that she needed help to get out of her current predicament.
‘Bloody hell, I’m stupid,’ she thought as she rolled over the hard wooden side of the waterbed. ‘I should have asked Lewis nicely to untie my arms when he opened the door last night instead of whining about sending me over to Roger.’
After anxiously searching through the house Angie found the note from Lewis. ‘Early round, probably back around 3,’ it said.
"Bastard, Dirty fucking BASTARD!" Angie swore. "Fucking inconsiderate uncaring BASTARD!" Angie screamed in frustration as she flexed her fingers and shrugged her aching shoulders in the very limited movement that the leather arm binder allowed.
She concentrated on her breathing, taking deep slow breaths until she’d calmed herself down. She knew that panicking wouldn’t help; but she didn’t have a clue as to what would either.
‘Right,’ she thought. ‘You’re a 36 year old, nude fat frump, who got to walk home wearing sneakers, a leather arm binder and a Driza-Bone and led by a bloody Rotty bitch. Well, at least we got home.’
Perched on the daybed in the sunroom she watched Portia gamboling with her pups in the backyard and mulled over the previous night’s events.
What had gone wrong in her life she wondered. Where was it going to go now?
She’d got home in the late afternoon to find a sealed envelope addressed to Roger and a note telling her to deliver it early that evening after he’d got his ‘Canadian’ home. She’d been concerned about the puppies because Lewis had taken Portia with him so she’d wasted time fussing about with them.
She’d been miffed too by Lewis’ arbitrary instructions and she’d wondered about what Lewis could be sending to Roger that was so important that it had to be hand delivered. It wasn’t as if the boys were in business together or were mates even though both Lewis and Roger said that they went way back. For that matter she’d thought that there was some antagonism between them on the last time that they’d been to Roger’s place... so she decided that she’d take her own good time to have a quick snack and make a few phone calls before driving over to deliver the envelope.
The early evening was darkened by the heavy overcast as Angie pressed that talk button by the outside gate and after a few words the remote lock clicked. Pushing the gate inwards she saw that the house was in darkness and she heard country music. Deciding to ‘follow the music’ Angie cautiously took the mood lit path around the house and eventually saw lights in the separate games room. As she walked she heard Tammy Wynette singing about spelling out D.I.V.O.R.C.E. and realized that she wasn’t all that happy with the relationship that she had with Lewis.
That was her business but so with a mental shake she squared her shoulders, shoved her breasts out, smiled, pushed the games room door open and said, "I could hear country music out on the street so I thought I'd bring the envelope out here for you Roger."
She had been flummoxed by the sight of the long haired blonde standing by the divan. Hand stupidly hanging onto the wide open door, mouth agape and eyes wide with shock she’d stood there like a stale bottle of piss -- totally useless and unwanted. Then as Angie took in more she saw the blonde’s puffed out cheeks and the cloth gag that cleaved between her lips, the way her arms were stringently pulled behind her and the way she was standing balanced on one foot below strapped and crossed ankles.
As her mind flipped and flopped between reality and fantasy she just knew that there was more to life than she’d ever experienced in the twenty-two years that she’d been with Lewis. The stunned mullet was replaced with a sly uncertain grin that developed into a wide smile that lit up her face and eyes and she said, "Hi, I'm Angie. You must be the Canadian. I hope that we're going to be friends."
She’d sat primly on the sofa next to the bound blonde listening to the soothing country music and waited. The wheels in her head were spinning as she tried to assimilate what she was experiencing and why Lewis had sent her.
Roger had told her that Lewis had empowered him with an Enduring Power of Attorney to act in his stead to do manage certain of his private affairs and in particular ‘to keep her occupied for as long as I liked whenever he was otherwise occupied and I was prepared to tolerate her presence' and once finished was to 'send her home in whatever state she was in when I finished.’
"It’s not a legally enforceable document," he’d said, "and you’ll have to make your own decision bearing in mind that whichever way you go there’ll be consequences that will be totally out of your control."
Angie just slumped down onto the sofa.
"I don't know what to say," she said. "Why would he want to do that? He loves me and I love him. What will I do?"
"Well, you're here now aren't you. That ought to give you a bloody hint."
She’d nodded glumly.
"Go home, get changed into something more appropriate, pick out things that you think I might like and be back here by seven pm. Oh, and leave your car and keys at home. Getting off your arse a bit might improve both your outlook and your outline."
"You better get a move on, it's after six already."
She’d just up and left. Flushed, confused and anxious. She’d driven home; but would never remember how she’d done it. She’d expected Lewis to be home; but he wasn’t.
She’d rung his mobile; but it was turned off. She’d flapped around her home for a while before changing into sweats and runners. ‘What the hell can I take that he might like?’ Angie asked herself. Then she realized that she had just twenty minutes to get back to his place if she was going.
As she jogged around the streets towards his house several light bulbs in her head flashed. The first was ‘tomorrow in daylight I’ll see if I can find a short cut through the linear park.’ The second was ‘he’ll tell me what he likes if he wants me to know.’
She’d pressed the talk button for the second time that day just before seven and been invited to wait in the games room. Some time later the games room intercom had beeped and Angie had been invited to spread out everything that she’d brought on the divan. She’d then been invited to make herself comfortable on the roo skin in front of the bar.
Angie was between a rock and a hard place until she revisited the invitation. "Spread out everything you’ve brought on the divan’ and then make yourself comfortable on the roo skin in front of the bar," he’d said. She’d determined that she’d do exactly what he’d said... so she carefully and neatly laid out everything that she’d brought with her on the divan and then settled comfortably onto the lush spring red roo skin. Definitely not serenely, definitely not relaxed; but gloriously and voluptuously nude. And waited. And as she waited she caught herself shivering. Cold? Not really. Cool enough to tease her nipples and to raise goose bumps on her light brown aureoles. Cool enough for her to notice the fine hairs on her breasts; but then she’d never bothered herself with anything other than shaving her legs. Lewis hadn’t cared one way or the other and it was a time consuming task that she just couldn’t be bothered with.
For that matter Lewis hadn’t cared much about the flab that she’d accumulated either so why shouldn’t she hide behind her family’s ‘big bones’? She’d realized that she wasn’t embarrassed sitting there in the games room almost as naked as the day she’d been born. She could feel the heat that coiled in her belly and was shocked when she caught the scent of her arousal.
"Good girl," he’d said smilingly as he’d walked behind the bar to retrieve a coldie. "Any questions?" he’d asked as he cracked it. "No? Then here’s the interim plan. First we’re going to stretch your limits a bit and give you some time to think about what you want to do. After that you’re going to work at getting aerobically fit and then we’ll see. OK?"
"Lewis told me that he was a Dominant and that you are a sub or some other malarkey. Around here I’ll just expect you respect yourself and to strive to achieve the goals that you and I agree on. OK? Right, well Angie so far you’ve been a bloody dead marine and I’m bloody tired. If you slide out the drawer beside you you’ll see some soft black leather. Grab it and bring it to me please. Put your runners back on and then come over here. Hands behind and turn around," he’d said as he slid the soft leather sleeve over her arms and buckled the straps over her shoulders. He’d tightened the laces firmly, pulling until her elbows almost touched before tying them off.
"It’s starting to rain," he observed as he draped an old, well worn ¾ Driza-bone over her shoulders and casually buttoned the inside and outside front flaps.
"What are you going to do with me Roger?"
"C’mon, you’ll find out soon enough," he said as he walked towards the old dog runs.
Taking a choker collar and lead from a handy hook he leashed Portia. The end of the lead was slipped through the left hand coat pocket before being clipped to the ‘D’ ring of the arm binder.
"Portia knows the shortcut across the linear park and she’ll heel while she’s on the lead. Why don’t you girls go home now?"
He’d walked them to the front gate and had opened it before saying, "Angie I want you to think about tonight, the implications of what Lewis wants you to do, the consequences for you if you do that which he wants you to do and then give some consideration of what he expects of me. I will not discuss this with either you or Lewis OK? It’s totally your decision and you’ve got until 6pm next Friday to make up your mind."
"Night Angie, have a safe walk home," and he shut the gate.