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Yeah, the mattress on the floor, cuffs, blocked window, and video camera aimed through the hole in the wall all spoke of normal. If someone walked in right now, maybe we could just say we were being kinky, and maybe the contract would get me out of trouble. Sobering, though. I knew I should not be doing this, but if I was then it would be done right.
“You ready?” I asked.
She raised her shoulders in a hesitant shrug and grimaced. “Sure.”
“Okay.”
As I stuck the list to the back of the door, it seemed like I was rearranging my world, like this was something that was of world-wrenching importance. Why?
The rules were as sensible as I could make them. Jodie hadn’t understood why I needed them up in plain view when we’d already figured them out. I didn’t know either, not really, but it was important. This enactment of hers was making me doubt my own psyche for the first time since I was a teenager.
The Rules.
1. No sexual contact.
2. Filming is not allowed in the bathroom area.
3. No nudity
4. Bondage is allowed.
5. No physical damage to either of us.
I blinked. Number five was why I’d downgraded Jodie’s initial idea of enacting some sort of struggle and carrying-off routine. Ridiculous. That was asking for someone to be injured.
“Bye.” Seated on the mattress, with her arms around the front of her legs, she looked comfortable. Very comfortable.
I just nodded as I pulled the door shut. I didn’t say goodbye. She wasn’t going anywhere for four weeks. The little window in the solid door had a sliding cover. After one last look, I shut it too. Up above on the wall to my right, the light on the camera blinked green at me.
All set.
The back verandah of her house looked out over the forest toward the sea a hundred feet below. The timber of the rail was warm under the grip of my palms. Wings spread, a sulfur-crested cockatoo sailed across the sky – white against the backdrop of gray-green foliage – a perfect metaphor for freedom.
Here I was, free, and she was back there. This was going to take some getting used to. Funny though, as well as a bit of anxiety, like her, there was almost an excitement, or an anticipation? Perhaps. Foregoing my annual holiday to Fiji might have been a good decision after all.
In the quiet, with only the wind and the sky about me, I dared to turn that question over in my mind again. Why? I think I could see now that there was something sexual. My balls had tightened when I’d locked the door and the observation window, and turned my back on her. I liked knowing she was there and couldn’t get out without my say-so. Weird, but understanding your own mind is the key to controlling it. There was no point in ignoring my motivations.
I’d partly said yes to this because I knew her and if I hadn’t agreed, she’d have found someone else. That was not going to happen. I shuddered to think what another man would do with a woman tied up in his basement. Not that it was my basement, or that she was tied up. Hypothetically though, it would have happened.
But I was a normal man. I had fantasies. The difference between normal and wrong was in how you acted, in your restraint. When someone cut me off on the road, I might dream of a nuclear missile descending on their car and blowing them to smithereens, but I didn’t act. I didn’t grab a crowbar and beat them with it. I had fantasies about Jodie. I was avoiding them in a way, still. As yet, I didn’t want to let myself see most of them. I could taste them, though, at the periphery. This alone, standing on the edge of an abyss into my deeper psyche, was by itself thrilling.
I’d never really figured out the hold she had on me. For all that Jodie had never cut herself loose from me, I’d done the same. Maybe this would settle things and I could stop this absurd need to rescue her from her disasters? Maybe when she got drunk in a few months’ time, I wouldn’t be there.
