For the month of April, every day (except Sunday), I’ll be posting a story that has to do with the letter of the day. As my blog is a kinky blog, I will be posting kinky stories. Since the theme of the A-to-Z Challenge blog is gratitude, I thought I would mirror that and have each story relate to gratitude in some way.
V is for Voyeur
I am not a voyeur, personally. I am far more an exhibitionist (even though I don’t want to be the center of attention most of the time). So this story is going to take the perspective of the person being watched by someone who is a voyeur. It is a continuation of my previous story, U is for Underwear, which left off with the main character having gone out in the backyard, peed in her panties, and then discovered that she was locked out of the house.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” I whisper. The door is locked. I am standing in my backyard wearing nothing but a bra and panties, which are soaked through with piss, and the door is locked. It’s late at night and dark out, so it’s not like someone is likely to wander by, but still.
I grab the door handle again and twist, hoping that it was just a little stuck, even though it had never been stuck before. Nothing happened.
“Now what?” I mutter to myself.
“I pace in front of the door, peering inside, but I don’t see anything or anyone. Master should be inside. He was inside when I came out. Did he lock the door on purpose? Did I lock it out of habit? I have no idea.
I hear something in the bushes, and my neck snaps around to see what the sound was. I can’t see anything, but I step back, away from the glow of the lights from inside. My eyes strain to see into the dark, but I can’t see anyone. Is someone watching me? The thought sends a shiver down my spine.
And then I hear steps coming down the sidewalk. I duck down behind a bush, my heart pounding. I peek out, and I see a dark figure walking slowly past. I duck back down and hold my breath, trying to hear any sounds of movement. The footsteps should be walking away now, but they aren’t.
I am frozen in place.
The figure seems equally frozen.
After what seems like forever, I hear the footsteps receding. I breathe heavily, relief flooding my body. Before I can make the decision to move, Master opens the door. “Come,” he says. That one sharp command has me scampering to the door, relieved, and hoping that I have pleased him.
J R Vincente 