All-Inclusive

Nancy realized that they were no longer locking her door anymore. They didn't unlock and then re-lock the door when they delivered her food and smoothies. If she wanted to, she could leave her room. She had to work up the courage for a bit. What if they caught her leaving? What would happen to her then? Finally, after at least two days of making sure this wasn't just a momentarily lapse, she tentatively cracked open her door.

There weren't guards posted at her door. She got as far as the banister, before she heard someone coming, and she rushed back into her room. They must have been wearing the same ridiculous heels that were in her room, from the little click-clack they made when they stepped. She tried to control her hyper-ventilating when the glowing pink screen came on in her room.

The next day, she got a little more courageous, and walked out her room and down the stairs. The outside wasn't quite what she imagined when she was in her room. She imagined her kidnappers would have armed guards protecting her, waiting for her to crack. Bars on the windows. But no, this seemed to be a very nice old house, near the ocean. She could smell the salt on the breeze. And far from armed guards, she discovered the other people living here were like her.

Girls.

Pretty girls. They wore the ridiculously high heels, and the tight little outfits that were in her room's closest. Some were in their underwear, well, lingerie. Some were wearing what looked like the fetish-y maid's outfits and were cleaning. Some were wearing tight dresses with slits cut up to here. They smiled at her as she passed by them, through the house. Some were watching TV, with actual TV shows, not just the pink screen. Some were making out. Some were applying make-up to another, and the maids were, of course, cleaning. A few were listening to the radio, and singing along to that old Nelly Furtado song. It seemed like they were having fun.

She had to imagine that they were kidnapped like her, too. But, she had to ask the question. Where were the kidnappers? She lost her nerve, and hurried back to her room. Her room's TV turned on shortly, and the pink glow returned.

The next day, she made a vow that she was going to leave the house. And she did. The grounds were extensive. She found more pretty girls playing tennis, and a couple girls on a putting green. This gave her hope. They were playing in bikinis, but both groups were wearing tennis shoes, not ridiculously high heels.

It wasn't a true beach, but there was a river, and a few girls were laying out on towels, sunning themselves on the sandy riverbanks. Everyone seemed friendly, enough, though they didn't seem to want to converse. She'd tell them that her name was Nancy, and they would just cock their heads to one side in confusion. She asked what was going on here, and they just said they were playing golf. She asked why. They said they had to do something while they waited for Master to get back.

Master, she thought, her knees going weak. She realized then, that she had to get out of there. She continued to walk the grounds. There was a road leading away from the front. At the end of the driveway, a guardhouse, and a private gate. She tentatively walked to it. There was an older man, salt and pepper hair, in there.

"Can I help you, little missy?" he said. Nancy looked into his little booth. There was a girl kneeling in front of him, the top of her head just barely visible, bobbing up and down. Nancy flushed, and shook her head no.

She rushed back to the house. She needed to start planning. The road outside the guardhouse didn't seem like it was a main road. She was probably in the middle of nowhere. She found a pair of tennis shoes in a closet filled with different shoes. Most were strappy little things, but there were a few pairs of well-scrubbed sneakers. She'd needed something she could walk in.

In the basement, there were huge rooms with mirrors, and racks and racks of clothes. Again, most of them were not exactly practical. But she found a pair of yoga pants and a lycra top. It was tight, and Nancy didn't love the fact that it didn't have a midriff, but it was at least actual clothes and not just something to be sensually peeled off.

She should have changed right there, and get to stepping. But... she wouldn't the chance to see the pink glowing screen again. It helped keep her calm, the soft glow of the screen. She wanted the screen again.

She could watch it one more night, and head out in the morning. It was getting late, anyways. She wouldn't want to get lost in the dark, not when she could stay safe and warm and fall asleep to the glowing pink screen.

She woke up the next morning, and put on the high heels that were in her room's closet. Maybe she could help put on make-up while she waited for her Master.