I knew he had been planning something unusual for several days before he broached the subject - there was just something in his manner that suggested he was thinking, analyzing, and preparing some new exploit. It's one of the things I love about him - he's always working out new things to try and new experiences for us to share. He finally came out with his latest idea as we were rinsing the dinner dishes and putting them in the dishwasher.
"Found a new place to play, by the way," he remarked casually.
"Oh, yeah? Where?" I asked.
"I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise - but I think you'll like it."
I smiled, wondering what he had in mind. He arched an eyebrow, grinning.
"When do you want to give it a try?" As if I didn't know, I arched an eyebrow right back at him.
"Ohh, let's see - how about now?" He chuckled, knowing that I had read him like a book. I nodded, grinning. "I'll grab the bag, and you won't need anything but that dress and your sandals."
"That dress" was, of course, my full-length chambray that buttons all the way from neckline to hem. As a dress, it's pretty plain and frumpy, but as clothing that can be easily removed, it's at the top of his list. I made a quick stop in the bathroom, then stripped and pulled on the faded old dress and stepped into my sandals, ready to go. I stepped out the door and pulled it closed behind me as he rolled out of the garage, then got in the car while he hit the button and watched the garage door roll down.
He drove us clear out of town, out past the suburbs and into an older industrial district. In its prime, I'm sure the area was a hive of activity, but economic problems had taken their toll and now the whole industrial zone lay quiet under buzzing orange security lights. I was struck by how odd and ghostly everything looked; the night was warm and humid, and the low clouds seemed to reflect the orange light everywhere like some surreal science-fiction landscape. With no stars or points of reference, my sense of scale was confused, and I could easily imagine this stark cubistic landscape stretching out forever, weird shapes and shadows piling on themselves into eternity. We rolled through the empty streets in silence, listening to the tires hiss on the pavement.
I had long since lost track of twists, turns, direction, and distance when he turned the car down into a sharp ramp and I saw that he was driving down into a sunken loading dock. The dock itself was more or less at ground level, but the ramp we were on allowed trucks to back down and put a trailer's doorway at dock level. In our case, the sunken ramp made a nice hiding place. The ramp was wide enough for three trucks, and he had no trouble turning around at the bottom and pointing the car back up the ramp.
"Poised for a quick getaway, hm?"
"Something like that."
"Mmmm," I purred, "then you must have something naughty in mind!"
He laughed, cut the engine, and got out of the car. I got out and waited while he pulled his knapsack from the back seat. He walked around to my side of the car, shrugging the shoulder straps into place, and then he kissed me deeply, wrapping himself around me and squeezing me tight.
"Turn around," he directed, pulling the handcuffs from his pocket. I complied, bringing my wrists together behind my back. He cuffed me carefully, then double-locked the cuffs so that they wouldn't ratchet down tighter and pinch my wrists. He turned me back to face him, then kissed me again.
"Come on, then - this way." He took me by the elbow and guided me up the ramp. As we walked back up to street level, I was struck again by the eerie landscape, falling back into my earlier post-apocalyptic fantasy of an endless barren industrial landscape.
It's hard to explain the sensation - just as one's eyes adjust to dim light and pick up more detail after a time, so my ears adapted to the odd silence and seemed to pick up more and more tiny sounds as we walked along. He led me right down the center of this street and that, and I noticed that each of the security lights buzzed at a slightly different frequency. At one point, a piece of newspaper blew down the street, and the sound it made seemed loud by comparison. I found myself holding my breath at odd times, straining to pick out tiny noises as if they were of supreme importance.
After walking in silence for a long time, I was totally lost once again. I could never have found the car on my own - all the buildings looked the same. He led me out into the exact center of a broad intersection, then stopped. I was afraid to speak, afraid to break the silence. The lights were everywhere, muttering to themselves.
"We need to be very quiet now," he whispered, shrugging off the knapsack and digging through it. In a moment, he pulled out my ball gag. "Very, very quiet," he continued, raising it to my lips. I opened my mouth and took it, and he secured the straps behind my head. "And you need to be very, very exposed."
He unbuttoned all my buttons with the skill of long practice, and my dress hung open at my sides. After stepping back to admire the view with his usual grin, he peeled the dress away to the sides and gathered the skirt, stuffing it up and over the handcuff chain behind me so that it hung out in back like a faded blue tail. The cloth ran from the back of my neck straight to my armpits, and from there to my wrists, baring me completely. He cupped my breast with a warm hand and kissed me again, then stepped away to leave me lit from every angle by the streetlights.
"That's better," he whispered, taking me by the elbow and leading me on.
Walking through the industrial park in handcuffs, clothed, was quite a bit different from walking virtually naked, cuffed, and gagged. I found myself trying to watch all the streets, windows, and angles of view at once, breathing harder and blushing deeply at the thought of someone, anyone, peeking out of a dark corner at my nakedness. My nipples went rock-hard even in the warm, moist air, and I felt myself getting warmer and wetter with every step. I cringed every time my sandals dragged on the street, feeling sure that small noise would draw attention. As always, he glided along on the balls of his feet, making no noise whatsoever. He paused now and again to caress me, stroke me, kiss me, but then always went back to marching me along. I began to get tired of walking, wondering about our destination.
He finally led me out of the industrial district, away from the lights, stopping at a railroad crossing. When he opened the cuffs and released my wrists, I rubbed them with my hands, flexing my fingers. He let me get comfortable, then slipped my dress off my shoulders to fall to the ground.
"Well, damsel," he murmured, "time for your distress!"
He waved at the railroad crossing, and I shivered in anticipation. At his urging, I lay down right in the middle of the road crossing, and he dug ropes from his knapsack and tied my wrists and ankles to the rails. When he had me tied securely, he set the knapsack and dress aside and fumbled with his trousers.
Then, he fucked me.
That simple statement doesn't even begin to describe the experience. He licked me, he stroked me, he got me so excited that I began to whimper against the gag in my mouth, and by the time he entered me I was thrashing, sweating, begging with my entire body to feel him inside me, fucking me, fucking me hard and deeply. I fought the ropes, screamed silently, opened my thighs and howled for him - and he hammered me hard, right there out in the open. When he came inside me, I almost died from shock and pleasure. Afterwards, I panted and sweated while he staggered to his feet and buttoned up. I lay spreadeagled in the middle of the crossing, pussy agape and dripping cum, imagining a train bearing down on me while passengers in cars watched in horror.
He took several hundred digital pictures afterwards, it seemed. Finally, he untied me and helped me to my feet. My knees shook as I leaned into him, thinking that he'd had enough for the evening. As it turned out, I was wrong.
"Come this way," he beckoned, holding my hand. I followed in a daze, walking with him up the railroad tracks into the darkness. After a time, I saw the end of a railcar in the shadows. It wasn't exactly a boxcar, although it was as tall as one; at any rate, the end of the car had a lot of open struts and braces. The 'roof' of the litte cage-like open area (actually the floor of the car, I guess) sloped from the top back down at an angle, but other than that you could see through the 'cage' part from all sides. Anyway, I could guess what was on his mind after taking one look at all those struts and angles.
At his urging, I sat down on the metal grate right in the center of the open area, above the coupler. My back was against a cold metal beam, and I shivered.
He started by positioning my hips carefully so that he could pull my knees up and spread my thighs wide apart, opening my pussy fully. When he got my hips where he wanted them, he ran the ropes around behind the column at my back, between my legs, then out to the sides again and back around the column. He tied my knees with ropes extending out away and behind me, pulling the ropes tight to spread me as wide as he could. My ankles were next, pulled tightly out to the sides and tied to more struts. More rope wound around my chest to secure me to the column, and then a few more loops around my breasts picked them up high and pointed them down the tracks. Finally, he bound each wrist and tied them so that my arms were stretched wide up and away from my body. As a finishing touch, he put the bondage harness on my head, strapped it on tightly, and tied the ring on the top of the harness to the pole behind me, keeping my head high. When he finished, I was fully displayed, unable to move a muscle. He put everything back into the knapsack and slung it over his back, then hopped down to the ground. As he ran his eyes over my helpless body, I felt another drop of his cum trickle out of my pussy and ooze down my crack.
He just stood there looking at me for a long moment, then casually lit a cigarette. I worried that someone would see the brief flame or the glowing cigarette end, but all I could do was look around in front of me and to the sides. After he finished his smoke, he looked at his watch and ground the cigarette butt out on the tracks. He hopped up on the end of the railcar, facing me.
