Karen Was Left Unattended

It's best if I am never really left unattended. I have been A.D.D. or A.D.H.D. all of my short life, and I see little likelihood of change now. From time to time, however, I find myself left alone and then, like a bad puppy who knocks over the trash in the kitchen, I start to look for trouble. One sure way to entertain myself is through masturbation. I have a Hello Kitty vibrator that is just small enough to slip under the elastic waistband of my panties. However, to get more (and longer) enjoyment from my masturbatory rituals, I sometimes like to act out little imaginary dramas, both in my mind and, to whatever extent possible, in my bedroom.

I have a fine pair of Comfy Cuffs. Each cuff consists of a wide nylon-cotton blend of sturdy webbed strapping material, on which an inch and a half wide strip of Velcro has been sewn. Each cuff makes a figure-8 -- a big loop (for thighs, according to the manufacturer) and smaller loop (for wrists). I usually affix the large loop to the bedposts, while dutifully following the instructions with respect to securing the smaller loop to my wrists.

As a diplo-brat, I had become accustomed to being alone and having to occupy myself the many long hours between the time that school let out and my father would come home from whatever spooky and clandestine activities he engaged in to pay our bills. Not that he was a spy. Nothing that exciting. His assignments mostly involved the encouragement and assistance of military folks in other countries who had purchased goods and services from the United States and from Canada. We each had two passports, one from Canada and one from USA. I never actually held both of them in my hands at the same time, and I am pretty sure the Canadian one is "casual and unofficial," as they say in diplomatic circles. Depending on where we were stationed, I either was from the U.S. or from Canada. Nobody ever asked. Far as I know, I've never been to Canada.

ONE DAY...

I was naked and getting ready to play with myself, having carefully organized the pillows, I placed the dressing mirror in a good spot, activated Hello Kitty and set her just where she belonged. Then I adjusted the wood shutters to allow the free flow of fresh air but still afford me a bit of privacy. The country we were stationed in had a temperate climate and there were no glass windows installed in the house – just shutters and screens. The house we rented was one of a group of four, clustered on the top of a small hill, so there was excellent cross-ventilation to cool one's heat-dampened skin. Seeing that everything was in place, I was ready to use my Comfy Cuffs. The problem with bondage play, of course, is that it works best when more than one person is in the room (at least at the beginning).

On this particular afternoon, however, I was all alone and decided to have a go of it nevertheless. I secured one big loop to each of the two bed posts at the head of the bed. Then I tightly secured my left wrist to the left post by carefully fastening the smaller loop onto my wrist. Because they are so far apart, however, I was unable to use the secured hand to help wrap the Velcro strap around my right wrist. In the past, I had solved this problem by simply holding onto the wrist part of the strap and pretending or imagining that it was actually wrapped around and Velcroed my wrist. Not on this day. I was convinced there must be a way to secure both of my wrists for a more realistic effect. Then, on the spur of an uninspired moment, and feeling quite clever and imaginative, I pre-looped the right wrist cuff so that I could just barely wriggle my whole hand through the pre-formed loop and work it into position on my wrist. What a fabulous discovery I had made! I liked it.

SO...

I commenced my masturbatory writhing about on the bed (that was supposed to be the fun part, in case you weren't following this), enjoying Kitty and the various fantasies, preplanned ones, old favorites, and some of a newer, more adventuresome in a free-style format. About the time Kitty was running low on battery power my game began to grow tiresome, and I decided to go do something else. After masturbation, that something else usually involved eating ice cream, but in this country it was more like icy frozen fruit with too much sugar added to it. Peasants! Just about that time, I realized that slipping one's hand all the way through a thick nylon webbing strap was really, really dumb. As I pulled and giggled my hand around, trying to slip the cuff back over my hand and off, the loop just went side-ways and didn't allow any part of my hand to pass through its loose grip.

NOW...

Please understand that I have several sets of Comfy Cuffs and their progeny. Some are for ankles, some are made of leather, some have little hooks for clips and the like. At this point, I was very happy that I did NOT secure my ankles as well, since now I simply had to lift up my legs and use my toes to undo the Velcro on the looser of the two wrist straps, right? Wrong. Things only work like that on television, never in real life. Even getting both feet in the general proximity of my secured wrists was pretty much impossible, let alone operating my toes like fingers to undo an inch and a half wide Velcro hook and loop coupling. I was trapped.

GIRL IN DISTRESS...

Although I was on the second floor of the house, I could hear the sounds of people on the sidewalk and street below very clearly, since the idea of a "set back" was unheard of in this country. In fact, the balcony off my bedroom actually provided some overhang protection for about half the sidewalk below when it rained. Being totally naked and spread out on the bed, however, I figured that calling for help from the strangers passing by on the street below was probably not a great idea. The other side of my bedroom overlooked a courtyard that was shared with three other similar houses. There was a fountain in the center of the courtyard and fruit trees provided shade and sweets for the families and friends of occupants of all four houses. When we first rented this house, I was introduced to all of the other "kids of the block." Some were about my age and some were a bit younger. Kasha and Kanta were identical twin girls whose father was somehow connected to the diplomatic corps and who worked with my father. They attended the American School and had plans to live in the New York area while Kasha attended the Culinary Institute of America and Kanta went to Sarah Lawrence College. I cleared my throat and yelled, "Hello, Kasha, Kanta?" Whenever I said their names like that, I always thought of Jungle Book.

Anyway, their conversation stopped for a moment while they tried to figure from which direction came the call. Once again, only louder this time, I yelled, "Hey, it's Karen, upstairs, in my room, could you come and help me for a minute please?"

EVENTUALLY...

The twins appeared at my bedroom door. Knocking gently, Kasha said, "Karen, did you call us?"

The huge wood door slowly opened and I saw two identical heads looking around it, toward my bed. It was like seeing four gigantic black olives staring back at me. "Karen," Kasha began, "Did your dad put you up here like this? What did you do wrong? Are you grounded for the weekend too? Is he still here? Are you allowed visitors? How long do you have to stay here like this? When will you be allowed out? Do you want some water or anything? Are you hungry? Have a Danish. I made some crème brulèe; do you think he would mind if I brought you one? Do you think he would want one too; I could bring two!"

While all this was rattling out of Kasha's mouth, Kanta walked around the room nonchalantly, first to the window to gaze down at the street, then over to my dresser to look at my things, and eventually over to my bed, where she perched herself on a corner by my left leg and smiled at me.

Her eyes never left mine, but she was addressing her sister, "Kash, go ahead and get some of the crème brulèe and some nuts, fruit, and ice tea; we shall keep Karen company until her dad gets home and sorts all this out." While all this was going on, I was doing my best to explain about the Comfy Cuffs and Velcro, but seemingly to no avail. Kasha was too busy saying all that she had to say to ever hear a word of my explanation. Kanta heard just fine but didn't seem to care.

OF THE TWINS...

Kanta was my favorite. She was the brighter and more fun of the pair. As the room grew quiet once again, I started from the beginning and explained that I was not being punished for anything, but I had just done a very stupid thing and needed her help in getting my hands free. "I want so much to believe you, Karen," Kanta said, with uncharacteristic sincerity, "But I don't want to get in trouble with your dad. Let's wait until he gets home and he can instruct us as to the best course of action."

This was pure Kanta bullshit and we both knew it. I could see it in her eyes that she was enjoying my helplessness and wanted to prolong it as best she could. She ran her index finger from the center of my neck, along my chest and tummy until eventually her hand came to rest on the lifeless Hello Kitty. She began to laugh.

She pulled Kitty from the panties and placed her on the nightstand, saying, "Even if your dad had indeed left you on the bed like this for punishment, I doubt that he would have put your Kitty down there. You really managed to do this all by yourself?" she asked, grinning broadly. Her cool, thin, long fingers danced lightly over my chest and tummy, lingering on my breasts, so her fingernails could dance there a bit.

JUST THEN...

The main front door downstairs opened. It was the maid, who came to clean three afternoons a week. "Kanta, quick!" I whispered, "Undo my wrists before she gets upstairs! We mustn't let her see me like this."

Kanta gave me her sweetest and most charming smile and leaned over to lick my left nipple and then the right, giving both playful and not-so-playful tugs on them with her teeth from time to time. "Don't worry, Karen, the maid always does the kitchen and downstairs bathrooms before coming up the stairs anyway," Kanta purred, "Let me put some fresh batteries in Kitty; we have plenty of time."

END of
Karen Was Left Unattended
Written and Read by Karen Kraft
© 2004 – All Rights Reserved