This is a sequel to https://www.literotica.com/s/tied-and-abandoned
You are recommended read that one first, as the characters are introduced there in more detail and this story often refers back to it.
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Last night, after receiving the two messages on my phone, I lay on my bed for about an hour thinking about what could have happened. Was it Janice? Or Eva? It just had to be one of them. But how could they possibly act so innocently around me - after what they did to me? What would make them doing it in the first place, rather than just untying me and totally embarrassing me? I was totally confused.
Still angry at Mandy, I didn't reply to her message. I did however try to reply to the other one hoping to figure out who it was that sucked me off, but my phone said invalid number, not registered, something like that. Surprised I tried to call it directly, but again the number did not connect. The number used was obviously fake and did not get me any closer to solving the mystery, if anything it made the mystery even deeper.
After a while I fell asleep, and slept soundly through the night. The next morning I was awaken by the noise of my parents getting up. I got up myself and joined them and my sisters for breakfast. I didn't sense any tension between me and my sisters, and the events from yesterday were not discussed. The party and everything went apparently perfectly normal for them. The only reference to the previous day was my mum jokingly asking whether I planned to sleep away most of the day again, but I said I was planning to go see some friends for lunch instead, and that we were going for a hike after that.
A turn of events came when my father mentioned he had been doing some research on the history of our house. It is an old house, built early 19th century when this was an up and coming neighbourhood. My parents bought it when I was young, and I lived there until I moved out on my own. It's a fairly big house with lots of rooms and plenty of dark corners and seemingly hidden passages, back in the day probably used by house staff to discreetly go around the house to do their jobs.
"While browsing the Internet, " he told. "I found out just over a century ago this part of town was much different than it is now, or was when this place was built. It was actually pretty seedy, with bars, brothels and casinos. All illegal of course, but tolerated as long as the owners paid their dues to the police.
"Searching a bit deeper, and in the end borrowing some old books from the library, I found out that our house actually was used as a brothel."
"Interesting," Stacey said. "Wonder if there are any artefacts left of that time, hidden below the floors or inside the walls."
"Not likely," my father replied. "The house had been completely redone a few decades before I bought it, then before we moved in we stripped it down and redid all the paint and wallpaper and made some repairs to the walls and so. If there had been anything left, we would have known about it. We've really been all over the place."
"Good," Tracey chipped in. "That's not a history I like to have hanging over this place."
"It could be really interesting," her sister countered. "Just think of it. Some coins that slipped between the planks of the floor, or some scribblings on the wall of a distressed hooker."
"Before you know it you learn about someone who got killed here and that her ghost still roams around. No thanks, some history is better forgotten."
This house used to be a brothel? Very interesting, I thought. I could quite easily imagine it, even with the current layout which I wasn't sure to be completely original. I wasn't too surprised Tracey didn't want to know about this, she's always been the rather conservative kind.
My father continued with his story. "I didn't find any records about people being killed here."
"Good," said Tracey.
"It supposedly was one of the better establishments, in this house. One of the more discreet, as well, especially for people that needed some enhanced privacy, you know, like city officials or higher ranking army staff. Those were part of the clientèle here."
"So it was a rather classy place," I comment.
"Pretty much so. The brothel operated for about two decades, until the city started to crack down on vice and corrupt policemen. Not surprisingly this was one of the last to close its doors, but close it did, in part under pressure from the general population. There are references to raids on these illegal establishments, but I couldn't find details. In the end the house was sold to someone who operated a doctor's clinic in it, and another forty years or so and a few more owners later I bought it."
An interesting bit of history about this home, and we discussed it for a bit longer. Stacey remained very interested in any potential historical artefacts, and upon deeper digging we realised that the wooden floor of the living room was actually really old and possibly original. My parents didn't replace it, other than repairing some cracked planks. It being a wooden floor meant there just had to be some space under it. My father mentioned he noticed about half a meter of room under the floor, definitely no basement but there was a crawling space.
He hardly finished talking or Stacey was already on the prowl to find an access, which my father told her wasn't there, and access would require cutting away some boards. I didn't wait for her to find her access, which knowing Stacey she would either find or in the end simply create herself as our father suggested. Instead I left to my room, and sat on my bed thinking about yesterday's events, and of course my father's revelations, until it was time to head out to see my friends, we were going to have lunch together and then go for a little hike.
The lunch with my friends also did not go entirely as expected. I walked in the restaurant, saw the group, walked over, and found myself suddenly eye in eye with Mandy, whom I didn't expect there at all. She never joined any such events before. She looked hot in her tight sleeveless top and stretch pants, showing off her curves and just a bit of cleavage, obviously chosen with the planned hike and the warm weather in mind.
Surprised, I quickly regained my composure hoping nobody noticed me being frozen upon seeing her. Mandy immediately scooted a bit aside on her bench, making some space for me, and reluctantly I accepted her invitation.
The moment I sat down she turned towards me and gave me a big hug, then whispered in my ear so the others on the table wouldn't be able to hear it, "Again so sorry about yesterday, I really felt bad about it. Glad I didn't make the knots too tight and you got out yourself."
Stunned again, all I could reply was, "It's OK."
Her knots had actually been pretty tight, and without the mystery helper I'm quite sure I'd have never been able to free myself. I more and more got the feeling that indeed she did not tell anyone, that she did not send in help, or was it simply that she wanted me to believe that?
"I hope you're not too angry at me," she continued softly. I could clearly feel her warm, soft breast rubbing my arm, and placed my free arm around her waist.
"No." I was still too confused to give a proper reply. Of course I was still angry, and she knew that, but but she was obviously trying to make up with me and her touch make me melt and quickly lean to forgiveness. After all, it did work out fine, and the sex I got out of it was pretty good.
"I'll make up for it. Tonight."
"OK."
"Thanks."
With those few words, the tension between us had been broken. I was now quite convinced of her sincerity, but not less confused. I had the feeling I'd better not talk to her about the mystery visitor, as I was more and more convinced that she actually was not responsible for that.
She released her hug, and started to deal with the many comments we got from our friends about that quite intimate display. After all, we were supposed to be just good friends rather than a couple so this was not what they expected to see. Soon enough the topic changed to other more important things, like jobs and for some even kids, houses, cars and even sports.
