003.
Emma.
"You know I love your car," smiling over at Dave, "right?"
"Sure Em." Dave smiles back, eyes on the road, taking his 05 plate white Subaru WRX up through the gears, the engine growling and turbo hiss crashing as he weaves through the light traffic, taking me home from college.
"It's just."
"Just?" Glancing across at me, I laugh. "Why does it have to be so fucking loud."
I actually love the noise. Dave's Subaru, heavily modified for speed, for racing but not on any track, has an amazing voice. Even at idle it bubbles, the large bore exhaust meaning I can, always, hear him coming. At twenty five he's almost ten years older then me. A fact my parents don't exactly approve of, but at seventeen I'm nearly an adult.
And, well, they trust me. To be safe. And they've met him, several times now. Dad especially coming away impressed that, despite the somewhat hooligan appearance of his car, Dave actually has a sensible head. But. Still.
"Not too loud down my road," patting his leg, resting my hand close to his knee, "please."
"Sure Em." Dave laughs, puts a finger to his lips. "Silent running all the way."
A point he emphasises by stamping on the gas pedal, making the WRX bark and roar.
"Honestly." I laugh, shifting my hand higher, almost to the top of his thigh, high enough that I can feel the bulge pressing against his jean's crotch. "Boys with toys."
"Shhhh." Actually ducking down in his seat, like someone trying not to be seen, nursing the car down my road at just above idle. The WRX purrs, gently, less of an angry lion, more, for the moment, a content cat. "Silent mode."
"You idiot."
"Yeah. Well." A shrug, a grin as I blow him a kiss. "I like to.... wait." Pointing ahead. "Isn't that your sister?"
"Huh?" Turning to look. "Yeah." I tut, seeing the grass stains. "Drop me here, could you?"
"Hey sis." I smile, Kayley, my younger sister, turns, smiles back, waiting for me to catch up.
I'm sure there's something in our faces that mark us as family, but, otherwise, you'd be hard pressed to tell.
I take after our Mum, which means my body is a curvy fourteen, my breasts an average C. Kayley's taller then me by a handful of inches, getting most of her genes from Dad. Playing sports helps of course, but she's always been an eight. And, well, Dad might be Dad, but both his sister, and Mum- my Grandmother -are very busty. So Kayley's E cups are thanks to Dad too. We both wear our hair long, below the shoulders long, though mine curls at the tips and my sisters is straight. Plus she's blonde, which, before he turned grey early, Dad was too. I've dyed my natural brown an all over blue.
"Em." Nodding, hugging me back. "How's Dave?"
"He's good." Trying not to grin, Kayley giggles, as only younger sisters do, which sets me off. We fall into step beside each other, heading towards home.
"So." Brushing at her trouser leg, I tut. "Exploring. Again, were we?"
"Erm." Giving me, my use of hand commas, a half smile. "Yes." A single nod. "I was. Exploring."
"Right."
We all have secrets. I smoke weed. Getting high, enjoying the occasional buzz, since I was Kayley's age. This, the. Exploring. This is Kayley's secret.
We don't go to the same school. I, before college, went to John Cooper Comprehensive, which is the same distance from our house, but in the other direction. Incidentally this means I've never had the pleasure, the misfortune, to run into Ashley. I won't, have never, pressed Kayley regarding why she sometimes comes home from school with a grass or mud stained uniform. Why she's sometimes late. Or why she doesn't actually seem to have any true friends.
She knows, if she needs, wants, to talk. She knows I've got her back. Until then though, exploring is a code word, for, whatever it is she's actually doing.
"Come on." Pulling my black messenger bag back up, it tends to slip down as I walk. "Let's get you home, get a wash on before anyone sees you've tried to bring half the woodland home." I grin. "Again."
"Thanks Em." Laughing, I join in. "Don't mention it." Linking my arm through hers, picking up the pace. "Just. Try and find a cleaner place to explore someday, huh."
"Kayley?" Dad, frowning across the dinner table. "Dear, what's that on your hand?"
"My," I spot a flash, something black like an inked picture, on Kayley's palm, as I look up from my half eaten pork in gravy with veg, before she closes her hand into a fist, hiding whatever it is. "Um." Frowning down at her right hand. "It's, um."
"Show me." Dad gestures, holding out his hand, whilst beside him Mum is frowning too now. "Please."
"S' just a doodle." My sister huffs, but she opens her fist back up, offering her right hand, palm facing our parents, for inspection.
Some kind of flowing single character, all curling black lines, fills her palm. It looks, on first impressions, like a tattoo. Like something permanent. Which is silly to think.
"It's pretty." Mum, nodding whilst Dad runs a finger over the design, frowning. "But."
"But it doesn't feel like a doodle." Dad, shaking his head. He gives Kayley a look, the same one he gave me before actually meeting Dave: the. I trust you, but I still think you're not telling me everything. Look. Which in my case was, still is, true.
I have yet to mention my smoking. Plus, prehaps more Dave related, we've had sex. Sort of. A half dozen times.
But he let's the subject, of my sisters new ink, which can't actually be permanent. Right? Drop. With a final frown he releases her hand, and we all go back to eating, the conversation moving on.
"You're doing it wrong."
"What?" My sister jumps, head jerking sideways to me, stood at her half open bedroom door, even as she whips her right hand behind her back. Too late though, I already saw the. Wand? In her hand.
"I said," taking a step inside her room so I can lean back, on the doorframe, "you're doing it wrong."
"Doing what wrong?"
"Magic." I grin. "That is a magic wand behind your back. Right?"
"It." Eyes going briefly wide, panicked almost I'd say. "Well."
"I mean." I laugh. "It's a good replica anyway."
"A...?" Staring at me, frowning. Then she laughs, bringing her, wand, out from behind her back. Holding it pointed at the floor. "It really looks like a wand?"
"Definitely." I nod. "Not sure which of the Potter characters has a bamboo one though? And, it's black, so, it's probably meant to be evil. But." I shrug. "It looks real."
"Evil?" Lifting it up to her face, frowning as she turns the wand left then right. "Does it have to be?"
"I guess not?" I frown too, thinking. I mean, it's all make believe anyway. So. "Maybe it's up to you?"
"Up to me?"
"Sure." Why not.
"You. Um." Twirling her wand in a figure eight. "What did you mean I'm doing it wrong?"
"Well." Lifting old memories, of movies and books, not just Potter but whatever else in the fantasy genre I've enjoyed. "Can I?"
"Can...." Looking from her wand to my outstretched hand. Kayley frowns, opens her mouth, shakes her head and shrugs. "Sure. Here."
"Right." I stand, mirroring Kayley's pose of moments ago, almost statue like, a person stood ready for inspection at a parade. "See." Lifting my right arm, wand in hand, pointing both arm and wand out directly in front, like a rigid pole. "This." I smile, Kayley giggles at my serious face. "This isn't how you spellcast."
"No?"
"Well." A shrug. All made up anyway, but. "This. Now." Shift of pose, stood side on to Kayley, right arm and wand raised to point at her, face turned to regard her, legs spread. Like a fencing pose, a swordfighters stance. "Maybe it's overly, um."
"Showing off?"
"Right." We both laugh. "But. Well. In what I've seen. Read. Doing magic is relaxed, flowing. Not like being at attention."
"Hmmm?" Kayley takes back her wand, moves her body to mirror my pose. "Like this?"
"Pretty much." Nodding. "It always looked, when it looked like it was done well. It looked like fencing."
"So," breaking the pose, frowning at her wand, "it's all in flicking the wrist and stuff?"
"I mean." A shrug. What do I know. "Is this for a play, at school?"
"Well." Making a seesaw gesture. Smiling. Shrugging.
"Fair enough." I grin. "See you later sis." Stepping out of her room, waving. "I've got coursework to do."
"Kay." Waving, but not looking, already stood side on facing her mirror, wand raised, frowning at her reflection. I grin, and leave her to it.
Unlike Kayley I have a double bed. Being older I got the bigger bedroom, with our parents getting the other, and Kayley, as youngest, in the smaller third. With the door closed I strip off and wrap myself in a towel I grabbed from the heated cupboard beside the bathroom.
I might as well shower and change for bed now, since I shan't be going out again tonight.
Feeling fresh, smelling faintly of cirtus, hair combed out and mostly dry, I put on a nightie. Some girls wear shorts and a tee, some just a tee and pants, some wear trousers. Me, I have, recently, begun experimenting sleeping naked, enjoying the secret thrill of having nothing on, liking how the cotton duvet feels against my skin. But I still need to wear clothes until bed, and a nightie has always been my choice. This one is grey, with pink straps over my shoulders. The edges of the nightie, top and bottom, are pink too. The bust has a pinched effect, cupping my breasts nicely, dipping like some of my vest tops to show off a decent amount of cleavage. Despite reaching nowhere near my knees I don't wear pants underneath, which is another small thrill as I feel the bottom hem swishing not far below my butt cheeks.
Mine and Kayley's rooms share a wall. On my side sits my desk, which I sit down at now on a wheeled black and green gaming chair, swinging my laptop open, booting it up. On Kayley's side is her mirror. Staring at the wall now, waiting, I smile. I can almost, with some imagination, see Kayley stood facing her mirror, facing me, legs spread, right arm twirling, wand dipping and bobbing.
For twenty minutes I work, writing up part of an essay, an assignment for Geography all about the oceans. "And." Full stop. Save. "There." I grin. "That's enough for today. Time for some entertainment."
Which, today, is going to be watching videos rather then checking in and out of various sites and message boards I enjoy populating.
An hour later, sometime around eight, and the strangest thing happens.
The video stops. Pauses. And, when I try to sit forwards, to discover what's just caused my laptop to freeze, I can't move.
I can't speak either, nor can I move my eyes. But, it seems, I can still think. I'm still, aware. What the actual fuck? I think, puzzled.
And then Kayley walks through the wall in front of me.
Not Kayley, but, it has her shape. As though my sister stripped naked, becoming a largely featureless silhouette in black, with highlights such as the shadows underneath her E cups, between her legs, picked out in shades of red and white. Like a ghost, a thing not real but there all the same. Like a projection.
My sisters ghost form walks towards me, out of the wall and straight through my desk without hinderence, but angles left rather then walk through me too. Which I've no doubt she could do with ease, but, thank fuck she didn't. I lose sight of her as she passes.
Then feel my arms moved, jerked and tugged back behind the chair. And, not that I'd currently have the power to bring them back to resting on the chairs arms, but, something is pinching at my wrists, something being wrapped around, pinching again. Am I being tied up? By my sisters ghost?
The black projection of my sister reappears beside me, coming back around the front. Where she kneels, like someone proposing marriage, her stretched back lower right leg vanishing into my desk just above the ankle.
She reaches out, to the side, palm open, and before my astonished eyes a coiled length of rope appears in her hand. As if by magic.
Ha. But, also. Oh?
Both my legs are tied, Kayley's projection, whatever it is, ties each of my ankles off to the chair arms on each side, where the armrest connects to the chair seat, where my butt is. Doing so not only angles and bends my legs double, it spreads them wide open too.
Maybe I should wear pants?
She stands, reaching out again, but this time something like a white scarf appears. Leaning forwards, all business like, my jaw is opened, and the scarfs centre is placed in my mouth. Leaning further forwards, not seeming at all bothered that her- apparently naked -breasts are dangling in my face, the scarf is tied off behind my head, yanked and pulled tight, digging in at the sides of my mouth.
Finished. Because what else on me can she tie? Kayley stands, looks down at me, the white ghost of a smile splitting her black and red shadowed face. She turns, and walks back through my desk, through my laptop, through the wall.
And, moments later, the world comes back to life. My video resumes in a burst of laughter. My body, finally reacting to the frantic signals my brain had been sending: get up, escape. Stands. Tries to stand.
Because I'm tied up.
"Mmmfpphhhh." I exclaim, looking down at myself. My arms, pulled behind me, pulling my nightie taut against my breasts. My legs, tied spread wide open, causing my nightie to ride up, but thankfully not that far up.
So. What's a girl supposed to do now? I've never been tied up. Not for fun. Not for, what, punishment. Would a naughty person be tied up? Maybe for some people this is a game, but it isn't one I've ever been invited to play, nor one I've ever thought up.
It isn't horrible. I don't hate this, being restrained, unable to simply get up and leave. It isn't horrible, but it is weird.
Of course I try to untangle my limbs. I struggle, wriggle, working my wrists and hands around, seeking out the extent of the rope, searching for a knot. I try to move my legs, to slip either ankle free. After all it wasn't even a person who tied me. What does a ghost, or projection, of Kayley know about ropes anyway?
For that matter what does Kayley herself, my little sister, know about ropes?
But. "Mmmfppp." Nope. I'm stuck. And, I just don't want to create the level of noise that might bring help. Because what exactly would I say to Dad or Mum if they're the ones who hear me?
So I sit, forced for the next ninety minutes to watch whatever video keeps being offered up next on random autoplay. And. I wait.
Until. Finally.
"Em?" Soft knocking on my door, Kayley's whispered voice carries, just about, through the wood. "Em?" Another knock. I struggle, one more time, not expecting any sudden change in the end result but, ideally I'd like to not be discovered in this state.
"Em?" Handle turning, door opening. "Are you awake? Only," my sister's head pokes through the gap, followed by the rest of her, "I really need...."
At which point she looks. And sees. "Oh." But not of surprise. "So I?" Staring at me, a shake of her head. "Shit."
She frees me, quickly. Where did my sister get a such a fancy knife? I stand, stumble, my legs like jelly from being bound so long. I sit down, and look up to say. I don't know what.
To find my room empty, my sister already vanished, the rope, the evidence of my strange experience gone.
No way I dreamed it. But?