"SUZY," Chapter 3 (Conclusion)

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Cardaniel
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"SUZY," Chapter 3 (Conclusion)

Post by Cardaniel »

SUZY

by Cardaniel

Chapter 3 (Previous chapters are in earlier posts)

Even with the diffuse glow to show her the way, making her way towards the street was much harder than Susan had anticipated. Suzy, of course, had made it from the street to the tree in very little time, probably five minutes. But she'd been able to walk freely, and able to see where she was going in the twilight.

Susan found that, though she could make out most of the trees just ahead of her in dim silhouette, she still banged one or the other shoulder or elbow against many of them, unseen. And she couldn't see the ground at all, nor any of the bushes that occupied most of the spaces between trees. She hunched into a semi-squat as she hopped, though it made her exhausted thigh muscles scream in pain, because with her knees bent, she could fall onto them when she lost her balance from hitting an unexpected obstruction, rather than sprawling headlong. Even so, she still fell flat twice, desperately hanging onto the key each time, knowing what a disaster it would be to lose it in the dark. She could only hop ahead a few inches at a time, so that she could feel the bushes with her knees or shins before they tripped her, and detour around them -- which invariably led to colliding with another tree. And when she banged her toes hard against a sudden discontinuity in the ground, the part ahead of her several inches higher than the part behind her, like a cliff scaled for mice, falling hard to the ground once more, she knew that hopping was not only too slow but far too dangerous: if the next cliff went downward instead of upward, she could easily break an ankle falling over it. Or worse, if the height of the cliff was a foot or more instead of a few inches.

She switched to walking on her knees, swinging her feet behind her from side to side as she went. She seemed to make better progress that way. The bushes scraped at her stomach now.

Slowly the light grew brighter, to the point where the ground, and the bushes, became visible. She stood back upright and resumed hopping.

She stopped about twenty feet from treeline fronting the street. She found that the arrangement of the trees shaded the area in which she stood from streetlights, keeping her invisible, yet the street itself was perfectly visible. She was directly across from the rental office of her building, and she cautiously hopped to a point across from the farther end before sitting with her back against a tree.

She didn't know the exact time, but supposed it was around eight-thirty. She still had hours to wait. Until the hardest part of all began.

* * * * *

Susan's heart was pounding. It was time. She was sure it must be past midnight, perhaps even one a.m. At first cars had passed by with a gap of at most a minute between, sometimes several cars in succession. That had been long ago. For a time she thought the flow would never slow, but gradually, hardly perceptibly, it did. She had decided to wait until she could count to a thousand between cars. She finally reached that number, and still couldn't make herself move. Perhaps another hour went by, and still she waited.

She had begun feeling the cold once more, after her body cooled following the exertion of traveling to the street. Now she was shivering convulsively again, giving her increased incentive to move, yet still she couldn't make herself go. She couldn't risk masturbating either, nor even a quieter exercise to warm herself, because too much movement would increase the risk of being visible.

The feeling of needing to empty her bladder, also, had been building as she waited. By now she was clamping her knees together hard, rocking back and forth, trying to hold it in. She had been conditioned since childhood to empty her wastes only in certain approved receptacles, and though she had urinated earlier, that had been involuntary, and she couldn't blame herself. All through the day, the combination of how dehydrated she had been and how much she'd been sweating had kept her bladder from filling, but it was very full now, and had been for some time.

She thought about how close she was to being home, and tried to tell herself she could hold out until then. But it occurred to her that she was about to do something that required her fullest possible concentration, and she couldn't afford any distraction, including pain and clenched muscles in her middle. There was no choice but to take care of it now.

Groaning silently, she rose up onto her knees and spread them apart as far as she could. And then she let go, her pee pattering on the ground.

It seemed to go on forever. The relief was overwhelming. At last the stream slowed to a trickle and stopped, and she backed away carefully, avoiding getting one of her knees in the puddle of piss.

And now, she thought, I really have to get moving. I don't know how well I'm judging time, she pointed out to herself. If I stay until I feel sure it's one or two o'clock, and it turns out I underestimated and the sun starts coming up, I'm sunk.

There hasn't been a car in a long time now. Do it now, Susan, just do it. You have to.

Susan stood, on legs trembling so badly they barely held her.

As scary as everything has been before now, she told herself, this is the first time I've done anything that truly exposes me to possibly being seen. But I have to do it.

Most of the apartment building windows were dark. Two were still lit, but they were both near the far left end. That didn't necessarily imply the occupants of the rest of the apartments were asleep. Those were bedroom windows. The residents in those apartments might be in brightly-lit living rooms, and might reenter the bedroom at any moment. But at least those dark bedrooms probably held sleeping people or no people at present. Susan didn't think people in the lighted bedrooms would be able to see her, if they glanced out the window, not only because of distance but because she was in front of a spot where an overhanging tree blocked the light from the nearest streetlamp, casting a shadow nearly all the way across the street. That was a nice piece of luck.

Considering all the possibilities, there were no circumstances under which Susan could feel completely safe. But the worry about misjudging the time impelled her. She absolutely could not take a chance on dawn arriving.

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, summoning what courage she could find. She felt the key clenched in her hand. She listened, to see whether she might detect an approaching car engine. She looked both directions for several seconds. Then she hopped out of the protective screen of trees and into the street.

The instant she reached the pavement, she saw headlights approaching from her left.

She spun, nearly falling right in the street, and hopped madly back into the trees, going sprawling as soon as she was safe. Not five seconds later, the spot where she had been standing was lit by the headlights. She didn't even really hear the car pass: the pounding of her heart in her ears overwhelmed it.

She knew she was hyperventilating, and forced her face against her knees to try to regain control.

Frightened out of her wits, she knew, nevertheless, she was going to have to try again. As soon as she could make herself do it.

She stood again, even more shakily than before. She repeated the process of checking for sights and sounds. Then she took a deep breath and began hopping again.

Across from her stood her goal. There was an illuminated concrete walkway along the end of the building, about eight feet wide, walled on one side by the building itself and on the other side by a retaining wall -- the land sloped gently upward going from left to right, and while the left end of the building, where the office was, was at ground level, the right end was about three feet below it. The retaining wall separated the walkway from ground three feet higher. At the far end of the walkway was the parking lot. Susan had decided to go on the other side of the wall and work her way up into the wooded land beyond the wall. She wanted time to listen for activity before rounding the wall into the walkway.

She had nearly reached the far side of the street when another set of headlights appeared from the right. There was no choice but to continue. Susan realized she wouldn't have time to squirm up onto the higher ground before the car reached her and lit her visibly, so she veered into the walkway, with no idea whether anyone was approaching it from the parking lot or from inside the building.

The car went past, its lights further illuminating the walkway for an instant -- not long enough for anyone in the car to be able to make out her condition, she felt sure.

She stood still, her heart pounding in the frenzy it had reached so many times today, and worked to catch her breath.

I can't wait here, she told herself forcefully. The longer I stand here, the more likely someone will come out. Or come from the parking lot to try to get in.

She hopped to the door. There was a tall, narrow strip of glass serving as a window. She looked through for several seconds into the corridor beyond. There was no one moving in it.

She turned her back to the door, the key in her hand, and had to crouch just slightly to get her hand down to the level of the doorknob.

She pushed the key into the slot, turned the knob, and slowly pulled the door slightly open, as quietly as she could, while she recovered the key. She remained with it slightly ajar, listening.

Satisfied, she pulled it completely open and hopped through. She let it swing closed on its own, with a sound to which no one would attach significance.

The door to the stairwell was immediately to the right. There was an elevator in the opposite wall, which would obviously be easier to use than the stairs, but, especially given the average age of the tenants, they used the elevator far more often than the stairs. There was no way Susan was going to take a chance on getting trapped in an elevator someone upstairs was waiting for.

For the first time, Susan wished she'd never taken a third-floor apartment. It was nice having no one above her, no footsteps ever thumping against her ceiling, but for now it was frightening that she had to climb two flights in a stairwell that might be used before she could reach her floor.

Especially since, she now realized, there was no question of hopping up the stairs. She wouldn't have wanted to try it even in a physically rested state, but given her present degree of exhaustion it was out of the question. There was no choice but to sit on a step, use her elbows to lift herself to the next higher step, bring her feet up, and repeat the process. Over and over.

Near the second floor landing, she nearly panicked when she heard footsteps approaching from the corridor. She was glad she'd taken care of her bladder earlier, because she knew she would have left a huge puddle of urine on the step otherwise. She began breathing again when she heard a door open near the end of the corridor. It had just been someone returning home from the front of the building. She continued climbing the next flight.

She stood, finally, after reaching the landing, and listened for several minutes at the door to the third floor corridor. She couldn't detect any activity. Finally she pulled the door open a crack and peeked through. She opened it all the way then.

She almost started hopping, before she realized it would be a serious mistake. Even from their beds, any of the tenants who heard the loud thump - thump - thump noise she would make that way would be very likely to want to investigate.

As much as it scared her to travel so maddeningly slowly, she had to shuffle. Even in her joined ankle cuffs, she could put one foot about two inches head of the other. She moved along, in two-inch steps, even a little more slowly than she might have because she was trying to minimize the jingling. Her apartment was the third door down on the right side.

With her heart pounding -- she had to be sure to give it a rest tomorrow -- she made her slow, slow progress down the corridor. A trip that should have taken a few seconds went on for ten agonizingly tense minutes.

Standing in front of her own door at last, she turned her back to it and crouched again.

Before she could get the key into the lock, she froze suddenly, her heart flying into her throat. She could hear footsteps approaching the door of the apartment opposite hers, the Melmans, and heard the doorknob start to turn. Richard or Grace Melman was about to get a full frontal shock, that would last until Susan dropped to the floor in a faint. She already felt a pre-faint fuzziness.

A voice, farther from the door, called out, "Richard, take your umbrella! You know it's supposed to rain some more." She heard Richard grunt, "Yuh, yuh" in response. The knob stopped turning.

Susan tried desperately to still the trembling of her fingers and get the key into the keyhole. Time seemed to slow to a stop. She really wished somehow it would.

The key slid in at last, almost by accident, and she turned it, pushing the door open, hoping she hadn't pushed it so hard it would bang against the wall. She had no choice but to hop now, rounding the door quickly so she could push the door closed. She heard, in rapid succession, one second apart, the sounds of her own door clicking shut and the Melmans' door opening.

She looked wide-eyed around her apartment, her own apartment, her home, her place of safety, as she listened to Richard Melman's footsteps, their sound slowly diminishing down the hall.

Then she fainted.

* * * * *

When she came around, she squirmed along the floor to the bedroom, there finding the keys to the padlocks. A minute later she was rubbing her wrists and ankles, trying to hold in a wild laugh of relief that threatened to burst out of her and would have seriously annoyed her neighbors.

Her jaw dropped when she saw that the bedside clock read eleven-thirty. It couldn't possibly be that early, she thought. But when she found her wristwatch, it agreed.

She left the bondage gear on the floor and staggered wearily to the shower. After spraying off the worst of the mud and grime, she rinsed down the surface of the tub below and then filled the tub with water for a nice, long bath. She probably wouldn't have done that at two a.m., but the neighbors would accept that an eleven-thirty bath was within the bounds of reason.

As she soaked, she looked over her body. There were scrapes and bruises everywhere she looked, including in particular her wrists and ankles. Her crotch was very sore. But clothes would cover everything, even her wrists -- she usually wore long-sleeved blouses, and the cuffs of the sleeves would hide the bruises.

She nearly fell asleep in the tub, but at last got out and pulled the plug.

* * * * *

In the kitchen, now dressed in her pajamas -- so nice, so calming to be in clothes! -- Susan quickly assembled a sandwich, which, she hoped, would hold her until breakfast in the morning.

As she finished wolfing down the sandwich, her jaw clenched when she saw the tequila bottle, tucked away in its corner of the counter. About one third of the liter was gone. She didn't recall drinking that much, but it did explain a lot.

She yanked the bottle out of its corner and unscrewed the top, holding the bottle over the sink to pour its contents down the drain.

She stopped. She didn't pour. At length she put the bottle, intact, on the counter next to the sink, still ready to pour it out depending on the outcome of the battle going on inside her.

* * * * *

I see now, Susan thought. I know what the reason was for those extra-powerful orgasms I was having.

It was more than just the bondage. If I wanted to, I could put the cuffs on again right now, chain myself up, and masturbate. But that wouldn't do it. Not with the keys right there in the room with me.

That wouldn't be bondage. There wouldn't be any work involved in getting out of it. Nothing remotely close to what I had to do to get home tonight.

Susan had known, still knew, even more certainly now, that she was the farthest thing possible from an adrenaline junkie. The constant terror of the last twenty-four hours, and especially the last hour of it, was so alien and undesirable to her that she couldn't imagine that people sometimes chose to live with that kind of stress.

It hadn't been the danger, as such, that had been bringing Susan to such an elevated state of arousal. It was her consciousness of how hard it was going to be to get herself loose. Awareness that the bondage was almost, but not quite, inescapable. Susan remembered, now, that for that third orgasm, she hadn't been able to push herself over the edge until she consciously thought about how far she was from getting free.

That is what bondage is to me, thought Susan. That's what arouses me.

Yet Susan knew it probably could not be done without the danger, no matter how she tried to set it up. Danger was always going to be a consequence of bondage-you-almost-can't-escape.

Susan wasn't capable of courting danger. She couldn't make herself do that to herself again. She remembered the stress SO clearly. Most stressful of all had been constantly thinking of the dangers of being caught. I never want to be caught, she told herself. Never. Ever.

But...

If I never do bondage like that again, she thought, I can never reach that incredible super-orgasm again, all the rest of my life. And I can't let go of the possibility of re-experiencing it. It can't be only in the past. I have to have to potential of it in my future.

But I can't make myself expose myself to the dangers that self-bondage holds. It's impossible. I can't form that inner determination and say, I'm doing it.

So I need Suzy's help, to do for me what I can't do myself.

Suzy cares about me. She didn't try to get me stuck in the forest with no way back. She made sure to look at the combination of the padlock before using it. She was careful about the apartment key. She even tried to warn me not to leave the key behind. It's my own fault I almost couldn't find it. I promise to listen to Suzy from now on.

I am putting a lot of trust in you, Suzy, thought Susan. I'm putting it all in your hands. Please, please be careful.

Susan screwed the top back on the tequila bottle and put the bottle back in its corner on the counter. Then she went to her bedroom, picked up the cuffs, the padlocks, the chains, cleaned them with care, and put them neatly away in the drawer.

* * * * *

Susan pulled down the covers of her bed and tucked herself in.

I'll need to go get my clothes back in the morning, she reminded herself. It should be easy to find them. I remember where Suzy put them. I don't have a combo lock anymore now, but I can pick up a new one at any hardware store. People don't even associate that with bondage, not all by itself. Nobody will think twice about me buying one. I do have another ball gag. I ordered different sizes. I'm missing a chain, but I have plenty. And I can always order more.

Next weekend, she thought with a sudden shiver, is Memorial Day. Three days off. I hope Suzy doesn't make it so I have to spend two full days and two full nights in the forest, and can't get home until the wee hours of Monday. Be nice to me, Suzy. Okay?

And I hope it's warmer at night next weekend. With no storms.

I'd better check out those nuts, to see if they're safe. Just in case.

Susan slipped her hand down inside her pajama bottoms and began to rub herself. In a moment she moaned.

END

(This is the first story in a trilogy. The sequels are elsewhere.)
lj
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Re: "SUZY," Chapter 3 (Conclusion)

Post by lj »

an excellent story, well-written and with a good build-up and a clever twist :)
be a switch, double the fun :-)
i_tie
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Re: "SUZY," Chapter 3 (Conclusion)

Post by i_tie »

Great Great story. Thank You for writing it :whip: :whip: :gag: :gag: :D :D
Cardaniel
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Re: "SUZY," Chapter 3 (Conclusion)

Post by Cardaniel »

Thank you for your kind words, lj and I_tie :)
gemt
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Re: "SUZY," Chapter 3 (Conclusion)

Post by gemt »

Lovely story, thank you!
susi
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Re: "SUZY," Chapter 3 (Conclusion)

Post by susi »

Amazing story! Very pleasant read! Thanks for all the work you've put in it. You mention its part of a trilogy, any hint to where "elsewere" might be?
Cardaniel
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Re: "SUZY," Chapter 3 (Conclusion)

Post by Cardaniel »

Thank you, gemt :) And Susi, you can find them at Cardaniel's Kinks. I hope you enjoy them.
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