Her New Keyholder

[This story is part of oneagainst's story event: Midnight at the Lost & Found Author Challenge]

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Steph did a sweep of the stockroom, then headed out front to where Maya stood at the counter.

"You good?" she asked the diminutive girl.

"Yeah. No worries."

"Couple of check-ins this arvo, Maya, they're in the book. Cabin two and three."

"All good. Keith coming through tonight?"

Steph shook her head, replying, "Nah, last I heard was he was in Darwin, he'll probably pull in tomorrow."

Maya smiled at her.

"What's up?" Steph asked.

"Just thought, you taking the arvo off."

"Thought what? Keith?"

"Sure, it's not like there's much else to do round here."

"You just keep your dirty thoughts to yourself. I'm just taking the arvo off, that's it. I might go into the Bungles for the sunset, I haven't decided."

"Just take water if you do. Tourists get...."

"I'm not a bloody tourist, Maya. I been here ten years."

Maya laughed, "I been here sixty thousand. You're all bloody tourists."

Steph waved a hand, heading through the front door into the burning midday sun, pushing a wide-brimmed hat onto her head. There were a couple of vans parked up in the powered camping sites, their white sides stained a rich ochre by the red Outback dust. She looked up into the cloudless blue, feeling the sun's rays on her tanned skin and for a moment, like it happened sometimes, she caught herself feeling far away, half a world away from where she came from.

The locals didn't mind her accent, not anymore, or the way she did certain things, unconsciously keeping customs and behaviours from her life before she came here. The Australian desert was harsh, unforgiving of mistakes, and so utterly beautiful. Kicking up the dust in her boots, bare legs and grey shorts, she strode across the parking area away from the reception building to a small house on the periphery, the place she'd chosen to make home.

Maya had smiled when she'd mentioned Keith, and now Steph allowed herself a little smile too. He'd be barrelling down the highway somewhere, right now, pulling three trailers, an unstoppable road train. Keith had been unstoppable too, pulling in once a week as he passed by on the run between Darwin and Broome. It had taken a lot of talk, and then two bottles of red, before he finally got his point across.

Steph unlocked her front door and stepped into the house, kicking off her boots and leaving them by the door, padding in bare feet on the old wooden floorboards. Inside was cooler and she paused for a moment, hesitating over the aircon before walking past the little panel and leaving it off. There was more than one way to get cooler, and the power bills were high enough already.

She wandered into the bedroom, unfastening the buttons of her shirt, unbuttoning her shorts, shedding her layers. She checked the time and picked up her phone. It was all happening, a torrent of posts from friends she hadn't seen in years. They were having the time of their lives in the club, in the Lost and Found, surrounded by hundreds of likeminded people, while she was here on her own.

Steph looked out of the window at the flat, empty land, her hands snaking behind her back to unclasp her bra, letting it fall to the floor. The parched eucalyptus trees bore the brunt of the sun, their leaves and branches drooping down under the weight of its unremitting glare, casting scant shadows over the dry, red earth. She shucked off her panties too, stepping out of them, bare at last.

It was only occasionally, in times like these, that she felt it, that tug back to where she was from. Normally, it didn't bother her. She'd come on a whim to this wide brown land, intending to stay a few months, but that had turned into a year, then two, then a marriage and a divorce. Now, when Steph went back home, it didn't feel like home anymore. It was like Maya had explained to her once, a belonging to country, to this country.

The phone pinged again and she picked it up off the bed. Ally had sent her a link, with the words, 'As promised. Missing u.'

"Missing you too," Steph murmured into the quiet of the house.

She reached into her bedside table and retrieved a little cloth bag. It rattled as she picked it up.

Steph went through into the lounge, stooping to open the fridge in the kitchette, pulling out a little container from the freezer section. She popped open the lid and turned it upside down over the benchtop, squeezing. A block fell out, hitting the surface with a solid thunk, the surface stippling as the moisture in the air condensed and froze, rendering the contents of the ice opaque. Steph picked it up, feeling the sting of cold in her fingertips and walked over to the sliding glass door that led to her verandah. She hesitated for a moment, her naked form glistening with the first pinpricks of sweat, then stepped outside.

There was a plastic sun lounger on the deck and a little wooden table. The sides of the verandah were shielded with lattice screens, little bowls of cacti and succulents ranged around the space, then open space, the red desert all the way out to the horizon. She placed the ice block on the little table and set the bag down next to it, feeling the breeze across her bare body. In the shade of the verandah, screened from the patrons of the camping ground and roadhouse, completely exposed and at the same time utterly secluded, she reached into the bag and pulled out an item.

In her hand, it felt small, the size of a fat cigar with a button at the end. She held it down for a few seconds until it began to pulse, signalling its readiness. Steph opened up her phone again, tapping the link that Ally had sent her, letting everything connect up. The screen was replaced with a control panel and she studied it carefully. When the phone pinged, the device in her hand began to vibrate, throbbing in her fingers, and Steph smiled to herself.

After a minute, it stopped. Carefully, Steph set her phone down on the table, then ran her long fingers over her belly, down to the space between her legs, over the little trimmed patch of fuzz. There was a heat there already that had nothing to do with the baking sun, or the prickle of sweat running down between her shoulder blades. She took a steadying breath, parting herself with her fingers, and slid the smooth white shape inside.

Once it was done, she covered herself with her hand, as if to hide her nakedness, feeling the rigidity of the intrusion. The vibrator remained quiescent, sleeping within her. Steph went back into the house, back to the kitchenette. She picked up a wine glass and the half-full bottle of red wine that was sitting on the counter, taking them back outside.

Steph arranged her bare body on the sun lounger and poured herself a glass of wine. On a whim, she picked up her phone, holding out her glass as if in salute, and took a picture down her body of the wine and her bare legs, and her feet pointing out at the red desert. She checked it and posted it, tagging her friend.

Steph sipped the wine, draining the glass slowly, savouring it. In her other hand, the phone pinged with alerts and she scrolled through the posts. Ally had replied with a selfie, holding up a glass of red wine too, with her new man, both of them in elaborate fancy dress. Steph smiled wistfully, taking in the details of the picture. She was happy that Ally had found someone at last, but seeing them together having fun in the club underscored just how far away they were. Steph was keenly aware of the way that their lives were moving on, Ally getting over her own divorce and starting again, while Steph still found herself licking her wounds.

She thought about Keith again, and a little shiver ran through her. He was a little older than her, sure, but he had that weathered look about him, hands that were used to hard work, a face that had seen the sun. She liked the feeling of those hands on her body, the way he made her feel, the passion. Then, afterwards, the simple, straightforward conversation, cuddled up in his arms with the sheets pulled back on the bed. Once or twice, she'd found herself lost in his eyes, on the brink of a confession, but always pulling back from the edge each time.

That was the nub of it, and the reason her marriage hadn't worked. There was that little thing in her, the thing Ally knew about, that they shared. Her husband hadn't wanted to know, making her feel foolish, or even worse, like she was some kind of freak. She'd buried it as best she could, but it had always been there, just under the surface, straining their relationship until eventually it broke.

Keith was an issue. Steph loved it when he stayed over, passing through regular as clockwork on his run, a highlight to look forward to. But the same question remained, the same difficult conversation, the dread of him reacting the same way her ex had done.

Out of nowhere, Steph's body spasmed, her wine sloshing in its glass as her body heaved and convulsed. She managed to place her drink on the table, scrabbling for her phone as the device inside her buzzed angrily, demanding her submission to the waves of pleasure it sent through her groin. She tapped the screen and the sensation subsided, turned down to something more bearable. Cursing herself silently for not paying attention, she forced her body to relax, enjoying the attention of the toy between her thighs.

Ally's suggestion had been simple. She was going to be at the Lost and Found, and her boyfriend had been instrumental in arranging all manner of events and equipment for the night. She knew that Steph would miss out, looking on from a far distance as the people she'd grown up with, the friends in their little kink circle, indulged themselves in a closing down party that would prove to be monumental on the Lost and Found's last night of operation.

Ally's link was to a tip jar sitting on the bar with a little sensor in the top that detected each donation and turned it into a signal, broadcasting the event to whichever device was listening. Steph enjoyed the hum, picking up her glass and knocking back the rest of the wine, settling into the lounger to enjoy the experience of being the tip jar, vicariously occupying a space in the packed club she couldn't otherwise get to, feeling it between her legs each time a stranger slid a donation through the slot in the top.

She poured herself another wine, sipping it slowly, getting accustomed to the sudden, unexpected vibrations inside her as another patron parted with a tip. Most of the way into the second glass, she stood up and picked up the large block of ice, turning it over in her hands until she could tease out a loop of string embedded the melting surface. She reached up to the roof, sliding the loop over a hook, suspending the ice above her. The block was translucent now, showing coils of string and then the outline of a key embedded in its centre.

Steph took another last mouthful of wine and laid back down on the lounger, reaching into the bag on the table again. She pulled out a set of leather cuffs, separated by a length of chain. Looking up at the ice block dangling above her, she wrapped one cuff around her wrist, bringing the halves together and threading a tiny padlock through the metal rings. There was a click and Steph tugged on the chain attached to the cuff, making sure it was secure. She raised her hands behind her head, threading the other cuff through the metal frame of the sun lounger, tugging the attached chain through until she hand enough slack to wrap the dangling cuff around her other wrist.

Steph looked up again, checking the ice block suspended over her. Satisfied, she closed the other cuff and sealed her fate with another little padlock. She tugged once, hard, against the sun lounger's metal frame, but the cuffs didn't yield. A delicious, dangerous feeling of helplessness swelled in the pit of her stomach. She was now trapped, powerless, unable to escape or resist, at the mercy via the vibrator inside her of random strangers in the Lost and Found. She closed her eyes to wait.

The vibrator surged to life, somehow more powerful now, more insistent. Steph could feel how slick she was, turned on powerfully by the simple sound of the padlock closing. This was her little dark fantasy, the thing she couldn't share, this unspeakable need to be restrained, helpless, teased and tormented. Her husband hadn't understood, but as the toy inside her hummed, she didn't care anymore.

A drop of icy water splashed on her throat, like a kiss. She felt the water trickle between her breasts, down her side and onto the lounger. Her eyes drifted closed, enjoying the sensation of the cool water, the heat of the day and then endless vibration buried inside her, building her slowly to climax. Idly, she wondered what Ally was doing at the same moment, in the thick of it in the crowded club. She felt a deep, abiding tightness spreading through her groin and clenched, welcoming it, squeezing against the insistent toy.

Then the feeling went away. Steph groaned in dismay, her muscles slackening as she sank back down onto the sun lounger. Her eyes remained closed, listening to the breeze, feeling the radiance of heat in the air, the warm orange glow of the sun on the landscape through her closed eyelids. Another icy splash, a tiny torment, making her shiver as it tracked down her naked body. The vibrator hummed into life again.

Steph lost track of time, hovering in a trance, content to drift as the melting ice and the little toy pushed and tugged her one way and the other, as if working together to bring her to the point of satisfaction and then snatch it away again. She was dripping now, perspiring freely in the heat, still shaded from the fierce glare by the roof, but also from the building heat inside her. She imagined the tip jar, sitting on the bar surrounded by all kinds of people, dressed as characters from Alice in Wonderland, picking and choosing which games to play and with whom.

Steph reckoned herself to be the Dormouse, cosy and sleepy in the little teapot, quiet and content in the midst of the hullabaloo. She was invisible, with the party going on around her, drifting on a delicious wave of helpless arousal. The vibrator kicked into life again and she braced herself for that dizzying build up to the edge of ecstasy and then brutal denial sixty seconds later when the sensation ceased.

Her body had become accustomed to it, rising and falling on the tide, lost in the warm, beautiful ocean. She began to peak almost without realising it, her mouth opening to gasp at the exquisite thrill, the chains rattling a little as she squirmed. A drop of chill water on her skin, a long, soft groan, and then stillness once more, letting Steph sink down deeply into it, welcoming it, burning for release now and welcoming that burn too.

"You're not busy are you?"

Steph's eyes flashed open, her head swivelling towards the voice.

"Keith," she squeaked, trying to sit up, making the chains rattle, forgetting that she was bound, "What the hell are you doing here?"

The man was standing in the dirt, by the side of the trellis, grinning.

"I drove all night, to get to you. Y'know, like the song."

He shrugged his heavy shoulders.

"Maya said you were here. I did knock, but I guess you, uh...."

He gestured towards her body, stretched out on the lounger, then broke out into a wide grin.

"I guess you couldn't get to the door. Seems you're a bit tied up."

Steph gaped at him.

"You want me to come back?" he offered, nonchalantly, "Only, I'm sweating like a kiddy-fiddler in a kindy after that drive and I could use a shower. Do you mind?"

Steph found her voice at last, wriggling onto her hip to look at him, "Uh, no, go ahead."

"Cheers love, you're a star."

He walked past her, then halted.

"You're looking pretty hot yourself. You want me to get you a water or something? You seem to be in the middle of things."

"No, I'm okay. Maybe later."

"Fair enough. Let me get sluiced."

With that, she heard his footfalls disappear into the house. After a while, the shower began to run.

Steph screwed her eyes closed, a deep flush spreading from her cheeks, down her throat and across her chest, burning with humiliation at being caught in her deepest fantasy, naked and helpless, by the very person she'd been trying to conceal all of this from. At that precise moment, a long way away, a stranger donated money to the tip jar.

This time, she folded, up, squeezing her thighs together powerfully, riding the waves of ecstasy. The shame, the adrenaline surge of being discovered naked and depraved, the heat, the slickness of the sweat on her skin, the slow, relentless build-up of the tease, the denying herself, it rose to a head, and she felt an unexpected orgasm building deep within her. Her body throbbed in time with the toy embedded within her, bringing her finally, inescapably to the brink of a shattering climax.

The sensation disappeared.

"Now, love, let's not get all hot and bothered."

Again, she opened her eyes. Keith was standing there, wet hair dripping onto the table, a towel wrapped around his waist, his thumb on the screen of her phone, brushing the control down to zero.

"No, fuck, please," Steph gasped, "I was so close."

"I know, I could see. You were wriggling around like a bag of cats. That's no good, is it?"

He made a display of looking up at the melting ice block dangling above her, nodded to himself and then went back inside the house. When he returned, he had a glass tumbler in his hand with a rich amber-coloured liquid sloshing in the bottom.

"Mind if I help myself to the whiskey? Just while you're otherwise occupied."

Without waiting for a response, he lifted his other hand, showing her the knife he was holding. Swiftly, he reached up and unhooked the ice block, setting it down on the table and began to attack it with the knife, shattering long splinters off it until it broke in half. He put the knife down carefully and scooped up some ice, dropping it into his glass.

"Cheers," he said, raising it in a toast.

Steph watched in silence as he picked through the ice. His fingers closed around the tiny key, tugging it out of the ice by the string it was threaded onto. There was a humming sound from inside the house and Keith looked up irritably.

"Ah, bugger. That's the boss. Stay here love, you're not going anywhere are ya? I just need a word."

"No, it's okay," Steph found herself saying, her mind scrambling frantically as Keith turned to go back inside.

"Oh," he muttered, almost as an afterthought, "Best let you get back to it. He bloody loves the sound of his own voice. I could be a while."

Keith brushed his thumb across the phone screen. He grinned down at her before looping the string around his neck. Steph stared at the little key as it glistened among his chest hairs.

"Don't go anywhere," he said and sauntered back inside to retrieve his phone.

Steph let out a long breath, feeling her muscles trembling, but not from physical exertion. It had been the look on Keith's face as he'd looped the key around his neck, taking her only hope of release with him. The ice block had been safe, a tried and tested method of making her wait, letting her enjoy that feeling of powerlessness until it melted and dropped the key into her hands.

Now, Keith had her key. He could have unlocked here there and then, but instead he'd left her, helpless. He wasn't like the block of ice, he couldn't be predicted. Keith could keep her locked up as long as he wanted, he could tease her until she begged, and there was nothing she could do about it. For the very first time, Steph was truly and completely at someone else's mercy. When the vibrator hit again, she folded up, crying out at the avalanche of wonderful sensations between her legs.