Yellow Tier is a BIG problem

Mackenzie’s bare feet slapped against the hardwood stairs as she hurried toward her bedroom. She rubbed her left ass cheek, still a little sore from being **** through that little window in the bathroom. It was the only way. She had to get unstuck before her home security called the cops. Then then only question would have been if they found the ass or tits half of her sticking out of the window. Fortunately, she got in and convinced one of the security company operators she wasn't a burglar. Her house was eerily quiet now, with the absence of the security alarm that had been blaring earlier, the only sound Mackenzie could hear was her own ragged breathing. She reached the top of the stairs and headed down the hallway. Her bedroom door was only the first door on the left. She reached for the doorknob, already imagining what to wear now that this nightmare was over, sweatpants and a light t-shirt came to mind, only for her fingers to be met with cold, unyielding resistance.

The knob didn’t budge.

She jiggled it harder, panic flaring in her chest. "No, no, no—" She pulled desperately not understanding what was happening. When did she locked her bedroom door? Why had she? She pulled harder, arcing her back and placing her gaze upward. Then she saw it. Sitting in the upper righthand corner of the doorframe sat a small electric box with a flashing light. Memories suddenly flowed back to her. Memories of the installation of her security system. How the security package she had chosen included interior security. A grizzly man in a polo shirt and company cap had stuck that little box up there and told her exactly what it did.

"This little guy is synced to the doors lock and connects it to the rest of your security system."

At the time Mackenzie didn't fully know what that meant, but now as the light above the frame blinking yellow, she knew exactly what it meant. Yellow Tier. Her breath hitched. Mackenzie said nothing and charged down the hall toward her upstairs bathroom, her bare feet slipping slightly on the polished wood as she moved in a panic. The bathroom door handle was the weakest in her house. It barely held the door shut and would sometimes even let the door open when she was using the toilet, a few times even when she had company over. However today as she gripped the limp knob it felt firm. She tried to turn it, but it didn't budge. That same damned yellow light glowed above the frame. Another memory entered her mind.

"No, we don't need to replace it." The instillation guy said. "It's the mortise we're working with. Oh, the mortise is the little hole the latch locks into. We are gonna put a specialized electromagnet in there that will hold the latch in place during lockdown that way, if you are ever redecorating, you can still change the doorknobs. Convenient right?"

"Yeah, real convenient!" Mackenzie spat as she slammed her forehead against the wooden door in frustration, fingers curling into fists. "Okay, okay, think. Shit looks like the guest room is yellow too. God this wouldn't be a problem if I just left my clothes on the kitchen table instead of-" Mackenzie paused. "THE LAUNDRY ROOM!"

Mackenzie’s pulse hammered in her throat as she whirled away from the bathroom door and sprinted back downstairs. Before going out for her experiment in nude sunbathing, Mackenzie had decided to do a load of laundry, and since she had spilled some spaghetti sauce on herself during lunch, Mackenzie decided to toss her then current outfit in as well. She remembered playfully stripping down and load the clothes on her back into the machine one by one before marching outside. Oh, how simple her life seemed just a few hours ago.

Halfway down the stairs Mackenzie leaned out over the railing and gazed out across her house. The den, dining room, and kitchen were all basically one long room separated by support beams. On the far side of the kitchen, next to the door to the garage, was the laundry room. Its door still open. Inside she could see the washing machine still bouncing around as it cycled her clothes.

Mackenzie sighed and leaned down to rest her chin on the railing. "Thank God. I still have clothes." She said, chocked with happiness. "Should probably let them dry though, but I can at least grab a towel out of the dryer. Then I can figure out how to deal with the yellow tier thing." As she contemplated her next move, Mackenzie watched the washer go to work. It was an older model, near the end if its life. She watched to bounce and buckle back and forth like a pendulum. The Redhead knew she needed a new one, but her clothes never seemed damaged or unclean so why bother. She watched the washer knock itself hard to the left disrupting some cleaning supplies. A mop was dislodged from the stack and fell forward hitting the door with a thunk. Then the door started slowly shutting.

Mackenzie needed a few seconds to process before her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

"Are you kidding me!?" Mackenzie screamed as she flew down the stairs two at a time, wincing as her bare feet hit the landing too hard sending a painful shock through her body. She froze for a second to recover before taking off again. She leapt over the coffee table spun around the dinner table and booked it through the kitchen. Her mind flashed back to only a few minutes ago when she had desperately run to the phone to stop an emergency call to the police. Sadly, this time she was not so lucky. As she sprinted through her kitchen, the laundry room door once closing at a snail's pace was steadily gaining momentum, Mackenzie failed to notice the decorative rug she had placed near its entrance. The second she felt the shaggy material under her feet; the Redhead completely lost her footing. Her leg slid hard to the side like she was doing the splits and before she could even scream out in pain her torso rolled forward and met the tile floor. She groaned in pain. Forgetting everything but the pain. Until she heard the door close.

Mackenzie shot up like a rocket and took the last few steps to the laundry room. Her fingers scrabbled at the doorknob, her nails clicking uselessly against the metal as she twisted with all her weight. The yellow light blinked—once, twice—as if savoring her growing desperation. She kicked the doorframe, the impact jolting up her bare toes. "Dammit!" The word cracked in her throat. No towel. No clothes. Just bare-naked skin. Of all the bad luck of Mackenzie’s life this was a new strange low. The voluptuous Redhead was locked IN her house. Naked.