Furtive Adventure Ch. 01

Aniyah

Aniyah entered her condo with a big sigh after another long shift in the ICU. Keys jangling in her hand, she closed the door behind her with a push of her tight, curvy rear. She stood there for a moment, shoulder blades and butt against the door, taking a moment to collect herself after a day witnessing so much misery. She kicked off her purple striped Danskos.

Retha and Whitney ran up from wherever they'd been lurking, purring and winding themselves around her lean, dark ankles while head-butting her shins. Chuckling, she scratched their heads then dropped her backpack on the plush chair just inside the door. She draped her light blue jacket over it. In the kitchen, she deposited the day's mail on the counter.

She fed her increasingly impatient cats, who meowed incessantly until she set their bowls on the floor. They had an automatic feeder but they much preferred wet food over the barely tolerable dry kibble that awful machine dispensed during the day. Grabbing a frozen dinner and a bottle of budget Riesling from the fridge, she set her meal to revolve in the microwave. She poured half a glass of wine, took a small sip, and flipped through her mail.

Among the usual bills and advertisements, she found a hefty matte-black envelope addressed by hand in stark, white ink to Ms. Aniyah Jemisin. The penmanship was angular and stark. She studied the script to make sure it wasn't one of those dumb fonts made to look like handwriting -- but if it was fake, it was convincing. It looked like somebody actually addressed this by hand. Instead of being held closed with tape or adhesive, it was fastened by an actual wax seal -- a red disc imprinted with an elaborate emblem. In the center was a roaring bear's head. Surrounding the bear were a dozen or so tiny human figures enacting various sexual activities.

"What the hell?" she said, taking another sip of wine and studying the complex design. There was no return address on front or back. Much to her puzzlement, there was also no postage attached. Setting down her glass, she broke the seal, destroying the design. The hard wax fractured into a hundred crumbly bits. She unfurled the paper to reveal a creamy white interior printed with black text. It was a sweepstakes, offering a chance at a free "experience" at a new chain of escape rooms called Furtive Adventure. They were opening a location nearby and wanted her to participate for two days during a weekend she'd coincidentally already arranged to take off work. If she wanted to go, she was instructed to text "Yes" to a five-digit number.

"What kind of crazy escape room takes two days to solve?" Aniyah said, shaking her head and twirling a finger in her tight, natural curls while taking another sip of her wine. "Hope they got somewhere to sleep."

Reading farther down the page, she skipped a block of disclaimer language. This was followed by a list of about fifty names of other invitees that might be selected, only one of which she recognized.

"Justin Daniels," she said, puzzled, tapping her neatly-trimmed fingernails on the counter. "How do I know that name?"

The microwave dinged. She transferred her meal to a proper plate, leaving the invitation on the counter as she carried her meal to the round, rough wooden table that had belonged to her late grandmother.

After eating, Aniyah occupied herself with winding down a little and getting ready for tomorrow's work day. She watched a couple of episodes of a grim Swedish murder mystery and completely forgot about the day -- and the invitation. She showered away her trying shift at the hospital and was getting ready for bed when she remembered that strange envelope. Barefoot on the polished wood floor, her lean but womanly shape barely hidden by her sheer robe, she strode back to the kitchen and frowned as she read the document again.

"Oh, why not?," she said, "I got no plans for those two days. Could be fun."

She texted the escape room company as instructed, promptly receiving an answering text: "Thank you for your entry, Aniyah! We will text you soon to let you know if you have won a place in our adventure. Good luck!"

"How did they know my name just from my cell number?" she said, then shrugged. "Guess everybody knows everything about everybody else these days."

She took off her robe and hung it on a hook on the back of her bedroom door, stretching her lean brown form, arms above her head. She sat on the edge of the bed naked and opened the drawer of the bedstand to pull out her favorite toy, flipping open a bottle of lube and applying a generous amount to the large black dildo.

Flopping back on the bed, she spread her legs and played with her nipples, which soon grew erect as she became aroused. She pinched and squeezed her full breasts with one hand as she fingered her hairless pussy with the other. Her pussy blossomed as she stroked it, opening in excitement, pink lips spreading to receive her gift to herself. She held her cunt open with two fingers while rubbing the head of the substantial silicone cock up and down her lips.

She gasped as she slid it inside of her in one smooth, practiced motion. She held it in place as she squirmed on the bed, enjoying the feeling of fullness. Nothing else like it.

"Oh fuck yeah," she moaned.

Before long, she was sawing it in and out in a frenzy while rubbing her clit, gasping in pleasure. Her heavy breasts bouncing in time with her thrusts.

"Ungh! Aah. Oh, fuck. Oh fuck yeah. God yes, fuck me fuck me fuck me," she panted as she brought herself off.

She came with a sharp cry as she arched her back and pushed the toy into her as deeply as it would go.

Lying content for a few minutes, she smiled at the pleasure of her release.

"God damn but I needed that," she said as she rolled off the bed to clean the black rod in the sink and then take a final pee before a deep, satisfying sleep.

The next day at work in the ICU, she was in the middle of intubating a frail old man at death's door when she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. Checking it later on break, Aniyah read the text she'd received: "Congratulations! You have been selected to test our new line of escape room puzzles! Don't forget to bring your invitation!" The rest of the message gave her the address of the place, reminded her of the date and time, and advised her that casual dress was encouraged.

"Okay, well, I guess I'm really in it now," she said.

Justin

Justin Daniels ran the razor back across his scalp, followed by his damp hand, feeling for stubble. Finding nothing but smooth skin, he smiled. Once his hair had started to thin in his thirties, he decided to just own his baldness but grow a goatee in compensation. Plus, he had Sisko and Picard to look up to. Bald is bad-ass, he thought, nodding at himself in the mirror. At a little over six feet tall and still toned with prominent but not huge biceps, he was pleased with his appearance -- especially his six-pack. He hadn't let himself go like a lot of his buddies from the military after they were discharged.

The mail came early for a Saturday, dumped through the slot in his front door. He retrieved the day's haul and sorted it. His time in the Marines taught him to get shit done. Don't touch any piece of paper more than once: read, file, or toss.

The black envelope caught his eye. He opened the invitation with his pocketknife, thus leaving the wax seal unharmed. After reading its contents in detail, the design on the seal did not surprise or disturb him.

He sat back on his sofa, thinking This could be awesome or this could be terrible. He texted them to let them know he was up for the challenge.

Within ten minutes, he got a reply: "Glad to have you on board, Justin." This was followed by an address, a date, a time, a reminder to bring his invitation, and encouragement to dress casually.

Yeah, he thought, vbecause my guess is those clothes aren't going to stay on long once things get moving.

He spent some time cleaning his house after neglecting it during the work week. Laundry, dishes, vacuuming, the whole lot. He took pride in keeping a neat house.

Jessica

"Honey, you got something in the mail," Jessica's mother said, handing her a black envelope addressed to Ms. Jessica Huntley.

"Thanks," she said, taking the envelope in one hand without making eye contact as she scrolled through her phone. She sat at the kitchen island, wearing a sundress with spaghetti straps, bright yellow with a floral pattern -- her typical outfit for the summer before senior year in college. It rode up to mid-thigh while she sat. The dress showed off her lean, tan legs as well as her full breasts. Her blonde hair, pulled back in a ponytail, completed the package.

"Are you still miffed about the Michael thing?" her mother asked.

"Little bit, yeah," Jessica said, still studying her phone.

"His loss," her mother said.

"Thanks to you," Jessica said, vinegar in her voice.

"Best thing for you," her mother said. "That boy was no good. You're twenty-one years old and you should know better than to keep that kind of company."

"Says you. He's already assistant manager at Frank's Outdoors. He's starting a career. It's not like he's some freaky pothead living in his parents' basement."

"You're legally an adult but God, Jessica, you are such a child sometimes."

Her mother left the room in a huff.

Jessica set her phone on the marble counter and opened the envelope, deliberately leaving the red wax crumbs on the white granite surface to annoy her mother. She gasped reading the contents -- including the fine print and the list of prospective candidates. Her eyes narrowed and a lecherous grin spread across her face.

"Oh, I really hope Michael makes the cut. That would be so awesome."

It was mysterious and weird and even a little creepy. Everything she craved, in short. It was like getting an invitation to Hogwarts. She texted the number in the document and waited. After twenty minutes, her phone pinged. She was accepted. Now she just had to figure out a way to get there without her parents' suspecting what she was doing.

Ivan

"You got some mail," Alexander said in Russian, holding out the black envelope.

"I don't get mail, Sasha," Ivan said, shaking his head, his attention focused on Cyberpunk 2077 after a long day of coding for the hacker group Sorokonozhka 134. He said, "Nobody knows I'm here."

Alexander laughed.

"Somebody knows or this wouldn't have come addressed to Ivan Volkov. Take it."

"What is it?"

"Fuck if I know. Just take it. Not my problem. This is your problem."

Ivan grabbed it and ripped it open, crumbling the seal without noticing. He studied the invitation.

"I do like puzzles," he said. "Might be interesting."

Alexander laughed.

"Sure. You say that but then you hide from the UPS guy."

"This is different."

"How is it different?"

Ivan took a moment to save his game and shifted in his threadbare wingback chair, the nicest furniture in their apartment.

"I read the fine print. I might even get laid." He thought a moment. "Not 'maybe'. More like 'absolutely'".

"Bullshit," Alexander said. "Maybe you would get laid by some guy. You would not like that very much, eh?"

"I'll roll the dice," he said. "I just have to text this number, maybe have some fun."

Alexander rolled his eyes.

"For very small values of fun, Ivan, sure. Sign up for this bullshit. You get accepted, I'll see you on the other side."

Ivan texted the number on the invitation. Within ten minutes, he got a confirmation text. He was officially a contestant.

"See?" he said, showing Sasha the text. "I'm in. Will you drive me there or should I get a rideshare?"

"Sure, okay," Alexander said. "It's your junk on the line. Cry to me afterwards."

Daniela

Isabella exploded into the apartment, cursing in Spanish, still dressed for work in a calf-length maroon skirt and long-sleeved black jacket over a cream-colored blouse with a high neckline. Leaving the front door open behind her, she disappeared into her bedroom, slamming the door.

Not a good sign, thought Daniela closing the front door.

"What's up, Isa?" she said after a few minutes, knocking lightly on her sister's door.

"Asshole lawyers," she said. "Cut my hours. They said, 'We've had complaints from clients about your attitude, Ms. Castillo.' Can you believe it!?"

Daniela stifled a laugh, shook her head, and thought to herself, I can't imagine. Calm, collected Isa butting heads with people? Inconceivable!

"I need to talk to you about something," Daniela said through the door.

"What? Are you pregnant?" Isa asked.

Again, Daniela had to hold in laughter.

"No, I'm not pregnant," she said, not having gotten laid in months after her last boyfriend ghosted her. "I just need to let you know I'll be away the weekend after next."

"Why? What's an introvertida like you doing, going somewhere for a whole weekend? You might have to talk to somebody."

"I got an invitation to an escape room game. I texted them to let them know I wanted in and they accepted me after making me wait a few hours. I was one of fifty people on the list and they picked six, including me. I think it'll be fun." She fingered the collar of her denim jacket, unexpectedly nervous.

The door burst open and Isa pounced her, hugging her hard.

"Really? You're going to go do something fun? Isn't 'fun' outside your comfort zone?"

Daniela hugged her back, then released her to look her in the eyes.

"Yeah, but I think I need to get out of my zone. I'll be okay. It'll be fine."

Isa studied her face.

"A whole weekend? These puzzle rooms usually take a few hours, tops. What makes this one a sleepover?"

Daniela shivered, looking down at her plain white t-shirt and jeans.

"I don't know," she said, blushing. "That's part of what makes it interesting, kind of exciting. There's got to be more to it than dumb puzzles if we're all going to spend the night there."

Isa wagged her index finger in front of Daniela's face.

"Do. Not. Get. Knocked. Up. Hear me?" she said.

Daniela stuck out her tongue.

"I have your good example to follow!" she said, not mentioning that she had gotten an IUD a few months ago.

Isa closed her eyes, drew a breath, and let it out slowly.

"Do not try my patience, hermanita," she said, struggling to keep her voice even. The sound of a toddler's fussing came from her bedroom. "I know what I'm talking about, you know? Wait a minute."

Isa hurried to calm her child, then returned, her brow furrowed.

"How can you afford this little vacation?" she asked. "You're making not much more than minimum wage at Supermercado Familia."

Daniela showed her the invitation.

"It's free. No cost. I have nothing to lose."

Isa studied the document, her eyes going wide for a moment, then she shook her head, frowning.

"And you accepted this offer?"

Daniela nodded.

"Did you read the fine print?"

"Of course not. All that crap is just confusing legal gobbledygook anyway. Corporate BS."

Isa shook her head.

"You're right. It is that, in part," she said, "but after reading it I'm worried for you."

Isa worked as a paralegal, so she knew a little bit about the law. It was a balancing act between taking care of little Manuel and getting in her time at a slightly shady law firm downtown. She and Daniela shared a two-bedroom apartment in a somewhat shabby but mostly safe part of town in the midst of creeping gentrification.

"Why?"

"This isn't like agreeing to some software license where you let them spy on you online and stuff like that," she said. "There's some serious shit in here I would never agree to."

"Okay, like what?"

"I'm just reading from the contract, okay?" Isa said, clearing her throat. "'You agree to participate in any and all sexual acts requested or the game is forfeit. No sexual act will involve excrement, urine, blood, or any form of violence that will leave lasting marks or damage to your person, nor will pregnancy be a risk for the women involved in this project.'"

"Wait, what? It really says that?" Daniela said, her voice rising. "You're making this up!"

"Oh no I'm not. And there's more," Isa said, turning the document toward Daniela. "Read it yourself. This could be horrible or amazing, depending on what gets you off. Me, I might like it but probably not. You? Doubtful. You sure you're up for this?"

Daniela grabbed the paper. After a few minutes of reading, her shoulders slumped. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

"I agreedv to this," she said, defeated. "All of it."

"Yep."

"Holy fuck," Daniela said in despair.

"That's one way of putting it. And with a fine butt like yours..."

Daniela laughed despite herself and gave Isa a punch on the arm.

"Maybe I will surprise myself. Learn a little something about who I am."

Michael

Michael strolled to the mailbox in his usual after-work attire, dark board shorts and an orange tank top bearing the logo of his favorite energy drink. As an almost six foot hottie, he was living the good life -- except for the absence of Jessica, whom he desperately missed. Nothing interesting in the mail except a hefty black envelope with a red wax seal. He tore it open and spread it out on the dining room table of the house he rented. Skipping the dense text in the middle of the page, he was surprised to find several names he recognized and was even more surprised to find Jessica listed. How did they pick people for this?

He was in, if they'd have him. He wasted no time texting the mystery number. In a short while, he received confirmation that he'd been accepted as part of the group plus information about where and when he was expected to go.

Arrival

"Mom! I need the car and no I'm not sneaking off to see Michael. We're over, okay?"

"And just what do you need the car for?" Jessica's mother asked. "And could you please stop mentioning Mr. Thompson? It's getting tiresome."

"I have to get out of this house! I need to breathe."

"You seem to be breathing just fine, dear."

"Okay look, I really want to see the new Wes Anderson movie and it's starting in about little over an hour. Emily and Madison are meeting me there. You know I'm a big fan."

"You have been talking about that movie a lot lately." She thought for a moment, looking into the distance, considering. "Fine," she said, digging around in her Louis Vuitton purse for a moment and handing over her RX 350 key fob.

"Here. Be careful, hon. Don't stay out too late!"

"I won't! Don't worry. Thank you! I love you!"

She dashed for the garage.

Furtive Adventure was located at the edge of the city in an industrial area, surrounded by companies selling gravel, concrete, asphalt, corrugated steel, and other building materials. Most of the other businesses nearby were involved in the construction of roads, high-rises, and cheap fencing. All of them, including the escape room, were surrounded by tall chain-link fences topped by barbed wire.

The other companies, closed for the weekend, had their gates closed. They relied on surveillance cameras to secure their property. Only the escape room's gate was guarded. A young burly man stood at the entrance in a black uniform adorned with the red bear's-head logo on the upper right side of his chest. A black leather holster around his waist cradled a handgun. He had an RFID reader clipped to his belt.

Michael was the first to arrive -- about thirty minutes early because of his anticipation. He hoped Jessica would be there. After stopping at the gate and having his invitation scanned by the guard, the gate rolled aside, allowing him in. His lifted black Ford F-150 with vertical stack pipes threw great, billowy clouds of gravel dust as he skidded sideways to a stop in the parking lot. He climbed down and popped a mint in his mouth.