Curiosity Broke Kat

Chapter 2: Snatched

Turning on the shower, I stand under the cold water, unable to shake the memory of the woman in red. Is she still there? Still tied up on display for that man? A horrible thought strikes me. What if she needs to pee?

I raise my hand and pull the shower off the hook, guiding it between my legs to finish what I'd started in the car. This time, my fantasy doesn't feature the woman...this time it's me who's exposed, bent over, a plug in my ass, rope wrapped around my tits till they're blushing a deep, dark, almost painful red. I groan as the spray of the shower hits my clit. Holding it there, I use the other hand to turn the shower nozzle, increasing the intensity until my legs jerk with the jet hitting my pussy just right.

"Fuck," I groan aloud. Holding the jet to my clit, I massage my breast, squeezing it tight and pinching the nipple. An orgasm starts to build as I imagine being under that red light, that strange man admiring his captured trophy on display...I've never had more than missionary and a bit of unsuccessful reverse-cowgirl...so why does this fucked up scene make me so —

The tension builds and my cunt tightens. "Nnnnnng, fuck, fuck, fuck, yes!" The tide hits, and my pussy pulses in a leg shaking orgasm, wave after wave passing through me in a way that far exceeds previous experiences. I shakily return the shower to its hook and squirt some soap in my hand, rubbing the suds all over my body. I'm dirty. I'm so terribly dirty. Why the fuck would I cum to the idea of a strange man tying me up? In my line of business, things can go very wrong, very quickly...so why risk manifesting such a thing?

I shake my head, wash away the suds and step out of the shower. I have things to do, and that man and the woman in red are both behind me, history, no more. Drying off, I shove on the first set of underwear I find, put on a loose jumper and some skinny jeans, and opt for my knee-length boots to finish the look.

My phone rings and my brows pucker in confusion. I check my watch as I head for the side table. 06.15am...too early for any personal calls, and the screen reads an unknown number...too early for scammers. I pick up the phone, but remain quiet, waiting for the caller to speak first.

"Hello? Miss Bloomer?" a woman asks.

I sigh in relief. "Macy, whose number are you calling from?" Macy Williams is the client I'm currently working for, the one who hired me to steal the ring.

"Oh, just a friend's phone. Sorry for the confusion!" She laughs, but it's strained, almost forced. "Listen, I need to change the meeting place—"

"Nope," I say, cutting her off. "We stick to the same place, same time as previously agreed upon." Something is up, I can sense it in her voice, the hurried words and slight stutter giving her away. "What's going on, Macy?"

There's a long moment of silence, then she finally answers. "It's nothing, just a little spooked by this whole thing. I'll meet like you asked. Same place, 7am." She hangs up without a further word, and I drop my hand to my side, contemplating her call.

Has that man found her? Did he figure out who hired me? I drop my head and smile. No way, there's absolutely no way he could have figured it out so fast. I grab my keys, wallet and the ring from my side-table, then head out, jumping into my car and firing up the engine. My old Beetle coughs and burps to life, and I make a promise to rise my prices and treat myself to a car that doesn't rattle when I go over 60mph.

Twenty minutes later, I'm pulling up to the nail salon owned by Macy herself. Cars and people begin to emerge on the deserted streets despite the sun still sleeping, early risers committed to catching the early worm, or so they say. I park my car across the road and wait, watching the salon for any sign or life or movement. As far as I'm aware, there are no back entrances. As long as Macy arrives by herself and unlocks the shop door, I should be ok.