Paint · Part 2 (2/2)
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isappeared from sight the Sheriff got to the top of the stairs and started looking around.
“Scott! You up here?” he called out, poking his head into each room. The policeman in him noted the details of the renovation as it had progressed so far, matching it up with how the place used to look the last time he had been in there. But what stopped him short was the mess in the master bedroom.
“Scott!” he yelled once more, shaking his head at how his son seemed determined to destroy this house. There was WAY too much paint on the wall and if he wasn’t careful he would have yellow paint seeping in through the ceiling downstairs. There had to be at least a full bucket’s worth spilled on the floor…and all those footprints! They led everywhere, even to…
And that’s when the Sheriff paused, for his expert eye saw the tracks leading to the window, yellow finger marks on the frame, and the larger smears of someone passing over the sill. Someone had gone out that window.
Outside, Susan was shivering and totally miserable. She had gone all the way to the corner of the house, her feet slipping on the rough roof tiles and wet paint that she was leaving everywhere. There was also a stiff breeze that sucked all the heat out of her naked body, and up here on the roof she felt even more exposed as she watched cars go by on the nearby highway. She was also starting to hyperventilate, the gag in her mouth making it very difficult to breath and forcing her to take quick, short gasps of air. But her worst fear was of being discovered so when she heard someone fumbling at the window she had just come out of, her panic rose even higher. The last thing she wanted was to be found this way by a man she had only met one time before.
Her first meeting with that man had been under much different circumstances, but only marginally less embarrassing. For although that time she had been fully dressed, she was also locked in a jail cell at the County Sheriff ’s Office. The Sheriff, called out of his office by one of his deputies, saw his son standing by the holding cages and rightly guessed that this was where the problem lay. So with a sigh he walked over.
The few times Susan had ever gotten Scott to talk about his father, she had gotten the impression that Scott and his father were much alike in many ways. She figured at least that they would look alike, and imagined the Sheriff as an older, more distinguished version of the son. She was surprised however by how wrong she was. The Sheriff was a short man of heavy build, almost round, with a fringe of hair left on his head and a thick moustache. Hardly a description that you would confuse with Scott’s. But it was as the man got close that Susan could pick out the family resemblance, for it was in the eyes.
Both men had that way of looking at you that made you feel that you were the only one in the room. On Scott it was charming and rather flattering, but on the Sheriff it was a little scary. Susan could easily imagine some crook trying to pull a fast one on this man, only to find him looking at you as if he knew the truth already. Yes, scary. And that look was fixed on her now as the Sheriff drew close.
“What’s this woman doing in this cell?” he growled, “I thought it was out of order, Frank!”
Frank, the deputy, only shrugged and pointed at Scott. The look transferred to the younger man.
“Sorry, Dad,” said Scott, looking about as humble as Susan had ever seen him. “Nobody told me!”
“This is your day off,” said the Sheriff. “What are you doing here and who is this woman?”
“This is…er, Susan, Dad.”
After a moment the Sheriff turned his attention back on Susan, his expression softened a little. But Susan figured that look never did truly fade from this man’s face.
“Sorry I have to meet you like this,” he said, extending a hand through the bars. “I suppose that Scott was merely showing you around, and that you aren’t in my cells on official business?”
“Hello, and…er…yes. Scott was just showing me around,” Susan replied, taking his hand and shaking it.
“And you know that we can't get you out of there, don’t you?”
Susan nodded.
The Sheriff sighed again and moved to take his son by the arm, towing the boy away from Susan. “You are an idiot sometimes, Scott,” he said quietly.
“Well no one told me!”
“That doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have been… well, the damage is done. But you know that there is only one locksmith in this part of the State qualified to work on those doors, don’t you? And I just got off the phone with him. He won't be able to make it for a week.”
“A week!” Scott exclaimed. “Susan can’t stay here for a week!”
“I know that, you idiot. But unless you want to pay the guy yourself for all his overtime, that’s how long she will have to stay here, the County isn’t going to foot THAT bill. But then you can afford it now, can’t you.”
Scott said nothing for a moment, his inheritance one of the many sore spots in their relationship. “I’ll pay for it, the whole thing,” he eventually said.
“Then I’ll make another call,” said the Sheriff as he let go and went back to his office.
It was Scott’s turn to sigh as he went to break the bad news to Susan, and Frank watched as the frustrated couple dealt with their setback.
Things didn’t get much better when the Sheriff reappeared. “Bad luck, Scott,” he said from his doorway. “The guy simply cannot get here before morning. I’m afraid that your girl will have to spend the night here.”
Susan and Scott looked at each other through the bars, dismay on both their faces.
“Well it’s better than a week!” Susan said.
Scott tried to smile, but he did feel like an idiot. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Susan whispered, drawing closer to him, “it’s not like I’m a stranger to being locked up.”
This did make Scott smile, and the warmth between them returned as they gazed at one another and held hands. That is, until Susan said she needed to use the bathroom. This was a bit of a problem, for the holding cells in the bull pen were only supposed to be used for a few hours, where someone was put while paperwork was being done. All overnight stays were done in the
County
Jail
, another part of the building. So there was no toilet in the open barred cell, just a hard wooden bench bolted to the back wall.
So what followed was a scramble for a suitable container, the kind vacation from the room for a few minutes of both men, and Susan’s most embarrassing moment of the day yet. Her embarrassment never did truly abate, as the business of the department kept on going. She got to meet a few more of Scott’s work friends through the bars of her cell, and a couple of the town drunks who were happy to be locked up for a few hours in the cells next to hers. Day progressed to night and the 24/7 activities of the County bustled on around her pretty much continuously.
Scott stayed with her for quite a while, before Susan insisted he go home and get some sleep. But while he was there he kept her fed and watered and basically looked after her as best he could, all the while apologizing for getting her into this mess. But they did get time to talk, and one of those conversations will make it into another story…but not now. However, Susan did get to see another side to the Sheriff that she wasn’t expecting. It was after Scott had left her for the night. The Sheriff was obviously on his way home but he stopped by Susan’s cell with a couple of blankets and a pillow.
“I… er… keep these in my office, for when I have to spend the night on my couch,” he said quietly, obviously not wanting the other deputies in the room to hear. “I expect that you will find them useful.”
“Thank you, Sir,” replied Susan, gladly taking them from him.
The Sheriff seemed to hesitate. “My son… Scott… he’s not a bad kid. But he can get overfocused, if that’s a real word. I guess what I’m trying to say is that he doesn’t always think things completely through, so if you and he are getting serious… well… just so you know.”
Susan said nothing as the Sheriff gave her a very brief smile before turning away. But what he said echoed in her head until she finally got to sleep on the uncomfortable hard wood bench.
Scott was by early in the morning for her, bringing breakfast and what he hoped was good cheer. He did indeed improve her spirits although Susan had quickly tired of the novelty of being locked in the cell. Maybe in another place with more privacy… being locked up would be more fun. But here she was, by design, always under the eyes of someone! At mid-morning, the locksmith finally arrived, and it only took him a couple of minutes to figure out that he couldn’t fix the broken lock.
“What?” Scott almost yelled.
“Not without taking the door off entirely. I need to get it back to my place and replace the whole lock assembly!” protested the locksmith.
“And how do we do that?” Scott asked.
“Gotta torch off the hinges, I’ll have to replace them too.”
Scott sighed. He could have dragged in some equipment last night if all they had to do was cut the door down. But he hadn’t wanted to incur the wrath of his father by torching County property. But now it looked like that was what they had to do anyway. So he simply nodded and told the locksmith to go ahead, while the Sheriff watched from his office door. They gave Susan a thick fire blanket to cover herself with while the cutting was being done, and soon the door was free of its hinges and Susan was free of her confinement. She and Scott hugged and shared a kiss, and then without looking back he got her out of the building as fast as he could.
That had been the last time Susan had seen the Sheriff, but as she stood on the sloped roof of the veranda she thought she could go a little longer before seeing him again. But someone was trying to get the window open a little wider, and there was no place left for Susan to hide… except…
Taking a look, Susan could see that she could move around the corner of the house if she was really careful. There wasn’t much for her to put her feet on, but if she was lucky she wouldn’t be there long. But she wished Scott was there, because from where she stood she could see the shed where he was working. If she hadn’t been gagged, she would have yelled out for him… maybe. She at least hoped that he would poke his head out the door and see her standing out on the roof. But she was more worried about his father poking his head out the window and seeing the same thing.
So she eased herself around the corner, trying to balance with her arms bound up behind her back. It was not easy to do, made harder by the fact that she was so tired, cold and sticky, and ultimately that was her literal downfall as she lost her footing and headed for the ground. The slope of the roof slowed her down a little as she slipped and rolled down it, and the fact that she only fell one story onto wet muddy ground prevented her fall from being fatal. But it was bad enough.
She screamed as she fell, loud even through her gag, and landed somewhat feet first although there was no way she could stop the rest of her body hitting the ground too. Her scream was heard by both men, Scott coming to the door of the shed wondering what Susan was up to, while his father moved to another window to see what was going on.
Scott was the one that saw her, a bright yellow form on the ground, motionless, and with his heart in his throat he ran to her. He thought she had broken her neck, but she was still quite alive when he reached her, swearing in pain from behind her gag. He quickly unbuckled it and then started checking her body for other injuries, not caring about the paint.
“My ankle!” she kept crying, so he checked it. It didn’t seem broken, but she was in evident pain.
It was as he was taking off her bondage that his father joined them outside the house, and the look he gave his son spoke volumes about his anger over what had happened.
It took a while to get Susan cleaned up, but the nurses at the County Hospital were pretty efficient, although curious as to how she got almost completely covered in yellow paint. It was the first time for most of them seeing someone brought in in such a state, but their professionalism kept them from asking too many questions. Susan’s collar caused more concern than her lack of clothes and yellow skin, but when they found that taking it off would require major surgery (if you excuse the pun), they left it alone. Susan’s problems, apart from some scrapes and a couple of nasty bruises, were at the other end anyway.
A badly sprained left ankle and knee. She had landed mostly on her left leg and it had absorbed all the shock at a bad angle. She had been pretty lucky really, but that put an end to her painting for a few says at least. All this attention caused Susan some embarrassment, but the worst was what she overheard outside the curtained alcove where she was being treated.
Both Scott and the Sheriff had brought her to the emergency room, and while Susan was being attended to she had to listen to the father give the son a right dressing down. It was only the Sheriff’s personal embarrassment that prevented him from shouting out any details about Susan’s physical state, but that was little consolation. Her heart went out to Scott as he stood there and took it, and when the Sheriff finally left he came to her with head bowed.
Susan did the only thing she could, she took him into her arms and said “Don’t!”
“Susan…I…,”
“I said don’t! Don’t apologize. Not one word!”
Scott looked at her, confused.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Susan said firmly.
“I left you alone, for far too long. You could have been killed!”
“You didn’t do anything wrong… nothing! I was fine in that room, no danger at all… unless you count paint poisoning,” she added with a grin. “But I was okay. It was MY fault what happened. I could have just stayed in the house and dealt with the embarrassment of being found out. But I couldn’t do that to you.”
“If I had been watching, I could have stopped him from seeing you,” Scott replied, determined to take the blame.
“Were you expecting him?” Susan asked.
Scott shook his head.
“Then you didn’t do anything wrong. Sweety, there are going to be times when despite our best plans, something is going to go wrong. You know that.”
“True, but that doesn’t matter, I should have been keeping a better eye on you!”
Susan sighed. “Scott… I’m going to tell you something profound… something that you learn from years of self bondage games and something you are going to have to learn too if you expect to… be my Master.”
The ‘M’ word got his attention, one of those thing that they had been discussing at the jail. So he asked her what profound thing he had yet to learn.
So Susan told him, in all seriousness. “Shit happens.”
It took Scott a moment to start chuckling, and only then did he start to relax as he hugged her once more. Susan started laughing too, well aware of how close she had come to ending it all, yet not allowing it to rule her future, and she hugged back as she painfully could.
From outside the curtain, passing hospital staff wondered what the couple was laughing about, and their smiles were passed on to staff and patients alike.
Paint · Part 2 (2/2)
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