Desert Chronicles · Bound 5 · Part 2

Desert Chronicles · Bound 5 · Part 2 (2/2)
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s willing Greg was more than willing and quite happy with her for a while after.

"She heard you and I would go out into the hills and I would tie you naked to the hillside or down on the ground and then I’d play with you and fuck you for hours." Quite correct. They did that a lot. "That was fine with her. It sounded like fun and of course she'd obey her master in such things and if she came she'd even enjoy it. She said there were a lot of places in school she had tried out and was looking forward to having sex with me, including under the bleachers. It was up to me whether she was tied up when it happened."

"Just as a joke, I asked her if I was her master and ordered her to, if she'd walk across the commons naked with her hands cuffed behind her back at lunchtime." Nel gave a start. It was pretty much a private joke between Greg and her, an example of something that even if he begged her for a million years that she would never ever even think of doing. The commons was a large grassy area, about fifty yards square in the center of school. There was normally more than a hundred people there at lunchtime hanging out or eating.

"She thought about it for a moment then answered she would not be happy about it but she would." Nel flinched again in disbelief. "She said she would bring a set of clothes to school if I thought I might order her to do that and keep them in her locker. If her master told her to do it she would take her books and the clothes in her locker and the handcuff key and leave it in the bathroom on one side of the common then walk across the common to the bathrooms on the other side. She'd take off all her clothes and handcuff her hands behind her back then start walking.

She said she had thought about it already, that having a master sometimes meant doing hard things but a slave did anything and everything asked of her because pleasing her master was the only thing that mattered. Of course if she did that I needed to be prepared for the consequences; she wouldn't protect me from them. Her reputation would be gone forever. She'd be in trouble with the school, most likely get suspended, maybe arrested, and definitely kicked off the cheerleading squad. But she would be my slave, just as much afterward, and a slave must obey and she had already decided that she would do anything ordered of her, even the hard things."

Nel wasn't sure if she believed it. She sure didn't see anything like that in Wanda but she hardly knew her and if Wanda had wanted to conceal that sort of thing from people it would probably be easy enough. Nel and Greg concealed – possibly used to conceal, if he wasn't lying about which track she was on and near-term events – that sort of stuff themselves. If Greg wasn't lying, not as well as she thought. She wondered who had squealed.

She heard his pants unzip, then it sounded like they hit the ground beside her. She knew this was coming, sooner or later, no matter what. She wasn't wet at all but Greg was ready for that. She felt him rub lots of lube into her and doubtless on his straining cock. Then he climbed on top of her and she felt him slide easily inside of her and begin to pump. "One last time before you're gone." He proclaimed then in silence took about ten minutes going in and out of her. He tensed up and gave a groan and she felt him spurting deep inside of her.

Gotcha, she thought; she almost laughed. When Greg was done, she asked him "Now that you've come inside of me, if I'm hit by the train, how do you explain to the police how it got there?"

"Easy," he offered, "I will tell the police I was at home this afternoon. I left my phone there so the cell tower records will show that. I've got a program running web pages I visit every so often so the Internet log will show I was there too."

She heard him fumble for some things in his bag while he spoke. Blindfolded she had no idea what was happening, but as he continued to explain, she heard duct tape being torn off a roll and presumably taped around things a few times. Then she felt something, something vibrator-sized, poke into her sex and slid up into her. She recognized the feeling, it happened on occasion before. Greg had taped the bottom of a vibrator to the top of a stick or something and had pushed the vibrator up into her. Unless she missed her guess the stick would be long enough to end up against the same rail her feet were tied to, which would, with the little she could move, leave it stuck fully inside her until it was removed. They did that from time to time, but normally when she was tied standing up and the stick rested on the ground.

"Wanda and I worked this out. She will say she ran into you at the mall around noon. You told her you had just broken up with me. This morning you had taken me to your apartment and had sex with me one last time and then broke up with me around 10 AM or so. They won't be able to tell just when we had sex, just that we had done it sometime today and they won't be able to disprove my time frames. She'll also say that you told her that you'd left me for a GI from base that you'd met while you were at work and that he wanted to take you to Brownsville for dinner and a movie and how you were so excited. Yeah, you and I had been pretty kinky, but he promised to be so much more and you were really looking forward to getting to know him in all the right ways."

It was plausible, she thought. Brownsville was the first major town north of them, the other end of the road that they took to get out here. It was indisputable that she had a lot of lonely single GIs happy to come into the store and browse and spend some time talking with her and the other young, pretty, and well-dressed girls that worked at the store. The police would probably go crazy trying to figure out from the store tapes which one of dozens was her mystery man.

"But you and I didn't meet until noon…"

"Yes, but I was sitting down the street from your apartment over that time. Cell phones don't provide an exact location, just within a quarter mile or so. It will look like just what she said, that I was with you over that time. And you met your new boyfriend and he took you out but not all the way to Brownsville. He stopped here and somehow got you tied to the tracks and left you for the train to run over. Even if they can tell someone had sex with you while you were tied up here, they will only find my semen there and just think he used a condom to not leave any obvious traces with your body."

She bit her lower lip, a nervous tell of hers when she was worried about something. "I'll be back in a few minutes." He told her. "I gotta go take a leak."

She heard him walk away, in the direction opposite the road. As his steps faded she became more aware of the feeling of the wind gently blowing across her naked body, the occasional sound of the desert around her, the cars driving by, any of which might help her but none would because they couldn't see her to know she needed help. Right where they were on the tracks you could stand up and still not be seen from the road.

She tried again at the ropes holding her wrists. After two years of practice, yes, Greg knew how to tie her up so she could not get out of it. So her wrists were still tied to the inside of the rail, the bottom of her feet still tied to the opposite rail, and if she was indeed on the northbound track and he didn't untie her from her current predicament she would be quite dead in an hour or two. This made no sense at all. They had a good relationship. She loved him and thought he loved her, thought they had a future together.

Yeah she had some lines he really wished she would cross but everyone did and a hell of a lot of lines that no other girl would cross with him were no problem at all for her. While she enjoyed the sex and being his play toy that didn't mean she'd give up who she was to him. She'd asked him to scare her, and from the crawling feeling in the pit of her stomach he was succeeding pretty well. Surely this was just a head game, he wouldn't want her to die.

Then again, she'd heard on her own that Wanda had broken up with her boyfriend.

If he wanted her to experience the feelings, she could do that perfectly well from the safety of the spur line. She could work herself into the right moods and feelings just fine and just put herself mentally on the northbound line. But he wouldn’t take the blindfold off so there was no way she could be sure, or safe. They played a lot of games, a lot of scenes in their sex life, she was an actress and she had fun taking one role or another and he always seemed happy to play his parts. Maybe this was just one of those.

Then again maybe everything he was telling her was true and she was about to die horribly. She didn't know. She truly wished she did.

She thought about it and if he really had tied her to the northbound rails, and if she was going to die horribly, he had just screwed up by peeing only a short distance away. She couldn't imagine the police would not walk the area around the scene of her murder and not find the wet spot where he peed. And perhaps the urine could be analyzed, proved to be his, placing him out here with her no matter what his cell phone location said. And if this was just a stupid game gone wrong the railroad police probably wouldn't check any further than to just make sure they were not still on the rails. She decided not to mention these thoughts to Greg. Just in case.

She heard Greg's footsteps approaching. He generally was truthful with her, especially in response to a direct question. She waited until he sat down beside her again and touched her stomach.

"Greg…" She asked. "Am I really truly tied to the northbound rails?"

"Yup," was his response.

"And there's a train coming down this rail in about an hour and a half?"

"One hour twenty-six minutes, if it stays on schedule."

"And you're not going to untie me before then?"

"Nope."

"And you're just going to let it kill me?!" Her voice was almost an epithet.

"That's the plan."

"BUT WHY?!"

"Already been over that."

"Because you and Wanda want to be together, and you don't want me to interfere?"

"Basically."

"Then why don't you just let me go? If all you want is me out of the picture, all you need to do is let me go. You, you bastard, are willing to kill me, and you think I would ever again be anywhere near you? Greg, all you have to do is untie me and take me home and you'll never ever see me again. Wanda can have you if she's that stupid and sick. You can have what you want and you don't have to do this to me. Just take me home."

"OK, just get yourself loose and we'll go."

It was a nasty retort he sometimes used. The rules were that if she was able to work her way out of being tied up by him he lost and they did whatever she wanted for the rest of the night as a reward. It was the flip side of the deal where she was really, fully tied up when he tied her up and he was under no obligation to let her out of a scene because she was unhappy with it. They had agreed long ago there was no such things as safewords between them; when he did her it was real. Every once in a while she regretted it but she left it that way because it kindled her competitive spirit, he liked it, and at least for her it made the play more real and more fun. Except for times like now.

She had no response for him. She knew what he was saying just like every other time he said that. He tied her up there because he wanted her there and she could expect no change from him. She could expect to stay tied up until he was satisfied and done, or perhaps in this case when she was dead. She was really starting to have a bad stomach about it now.

She started to cry. She decided not to fight it, maybe it would help. It didn't. He stayed beside her until she was done. "I don't want to die, Greg. I'll do anything you want. I will go away and leave you and Wanda alone. I will be your complete sex slave for the rest of our lives. You can weld a fucking collar around my neck and I'll wear it happily. I will walk across the commons any time you ask until they kick me out. You can do anything, anytime with me. Just don't do this to me."

He listened, but made no response. After a long moment with no answer she struggled for a second and then cried out: "What do I have to do to stop this? Just tell me? Tell me and I'll do it. I swear!"

There was a long silence. "I know you're freaking out, but just trust me, baby. You can do that, yes?"

"BUT I'M HERE!" she screamed back.

It took him aback, she could tell. Then he stood up, she heard him pick up his bag. "I gotta go. There's about forty-five minutes until the train gets here and I really need to be somewhere with witnesses by then." He brushed her hair tenderly with his hand. "It's been fun. Thank you."

She was speechless and she heard his footsteps walking away. After a few minutes she heard the sound of his truck start up, turn around, and wind down the road back toward town. Even with the noises of the desert it was a deadly stillness.

She first insanely hard tried to break loose. Thrashed violently, hurt her wrists. If she was on the main line didn't matter a bit. The stick and vibrator he had left inside her was just an irritant. After several minutes of trying she gave up. She wasn't getting loose. She wasn't going anywhere.

She just lay there, felt the wind rustle gently across her pubic hair. Pubic hair that apparently not been enough to make someone love her little enough to not leave her here like this. She felt the same wind blow across her breasts, breasts that she had planned to nurse children with, see them grow strong and smart, launch them successfully into the world. Not going to happen; within an hour all that dream would be spread bloodily all over her immediate surroundings. She had no illusions about what a freight train at sixty miles an hour would do to her bound body.

She would not have the joy of her father walking her down the aisle, giving her to someone who still couldn't love her as much as he did but would try. There was a time she saw the person at the altar as Greg but that was gone now. Her mother was starting to show her age, Nel wasn't going to be able to provide and take care of them in their waning days as she had planned. She started to cry again. Her father had a statement, "I didn't raise any stupid children." I'm sorry Dad, she thought, I guess one slipped through. But it's ok, it's getting fixed today. And she cried bitterly again.

And then she heard it. Very faint, very far off in the distance to the south. A train air horn. Maybe ten miles away in the flat undisturbed desert.

She threw herself frantically at her bonds. Her wrists felt like they were about to break. That would be an acceptable bargain if it let her get off the tracks.

She pulled desperately at the ropes holding her feet. Nothing budged, including her. And it fell on her, finally, like a black curtain weighing a million tons: she was alone, and not getting off the rails, and the train was almost here. She wanted to scream but settled for just crying. Crying for what she was about to lose. Crying for her parents, for the pain her mother would have, and crying that she had trusted so completely, misjudged so completely, someone who decided to kill her.

She could faintly hear the engines coming. far off in the distance and moving fast, drawing closer. Fast-moving freight trains were 8,000 tons and took miles to stop; the engineer had not a prayer of stopping in time for her with so little warning as he would have. She struggled a little more to no effect and then finally gave up. Paralyzed, just listening to the roar of the end of her life approaching.

She felt the vibration in the ground, first faintly and becoming stronger. It lasted for a while, and then added in was the high-pitched twanging of the rails as the train approached. And then she heard the sound change as the lead engine rounded the curve a half-mile away. Probably about 30 seconds of life left. At least it would end fast.

The engineer blew his horn. It was incredibly loud. She would have covered her ears if she could have but then it cut off. The engineer probably realized what was happening and knew she wasn't able to, and would not be getting off the rails before the train hit her. The ground was shaking like an earthquake. A quarter mile. Seconds left. She took a deep breath, closed her blindfolded eyes, and said a brief prayer good-bye to her parents and brother and sister and hello to God. Then the rumble and the ground shaking was just too much and she was paralyzed for the last few seconds. She was dimly aware her bladder had let go. The train was so close, only seconds. The ground shook like and ocean. She struggled and screamed…

And the train roared past on the northbound rails twenty feet away from her. It was still deafening and terrifying. The ground was shaking uncontrollably (or was it her?) and then the heavy roar and vibration receded off into the distance, the tone of the sounds dropping with the Doppler effect of the departing train engines. Left behind was a little vibration, comparatively but still loud, of the cars passing and the rhythmic gallop of the train wheels passing over a nearby joint in the rails. And then the last car rolled past and all the sounds were fading into the distance.

Except for one. Someone standing over her. Her feet were cut free, then each of the ropes on her arms. She scrambled up, jerked the blindfold off. She threw it as hard as she could and then crouched there, naked and shaking uncontrollably. She had a fire of hatred in her she would not have believed she could possess.

"Let's get going." He told her, misinterpreting her stance, as he picked up scraps of rope and the pads. "No doubt the engineer has radioed it in and we need to be gone in the next ten minutes or so."

She took two steps toward Greg and backhanded Greg with all of her strength which with her rage was incredible. Completely not expecting it, Greg was a compliant target and the hit knocked him back three steps and almost off his feet. She herself almost lost her balance.

She saw his anger flare, then turn to confusion. "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!"

"You bastard! I thought, I really thought you were going to kill me!"

He was holding his jaw, rubbing it, but stopped and looked at her with astonishment. "No! I love you! I want to spend forever with you! You said you wanted to be scared, like Geraldine in the play and I thought this up to give you that experience. You were never in danger. Never!" She was shaking and he was now acutely aware of how angry she was and that she was genuinely dangerous in this state. "You said you wanted to experience it. Everything I said, especially about Wanda, is a flat-out lie. Made up. I would NEVER hurt you! I love you!" He looked into her eyes and saw that none of it was getting through. "You said you trusted me…"

"Hand me my fucking clothes and take me home, NOW!" He reached into the bag and pulled out her dress and started to move to her to hand it to her but stopped when she tensed up for another attack. He tossed it to her, then her flip-flops, then her blouse. Watching her, he gathered up the foam and then, carefully watching her, moved back toward the highway and his truck. She following warily a short distance behind. It was old and rusted but she had picked up an old railroad spike she had found somewhere on the tracks.

They had made it away unscathed, at least in terms of police, both state and railroad, but there was other horrific damage. They hadn't said a word to each other all the way back to the mall and the silence was like a razor blade. When they arrived she had gotten out of the car and told him that she needed time to get over this; he was not to contact her. When she was ready she would find him. He had left flowers, roses at her work. She ran them through the back office shredder. As she worked through it she realized she really should not be angry at him. He had just been trying to give her what she had asked for. They had several classes together at school.

The first time he had tried to talk to her, to tell her how truly, incredibly sorry he was, she shut him down so hard that he kept his distance and hadn't said a word to her since. That was fine with her. He reached for her once before one of the classes, she pulled away hard, reached into her purse, and pointedly began cleaning under her fingernails with a folding knife that was completely illegal at school. He had asked several of their common friends to check on her, to find out how she was doing. They all wanted to know what he had done to her to cause this to happen. She told them all that it was a great big misunderstanding but it was something she needed to get over.

She did send him one message: she had no problems understanding her play character at all now.

She finally, after almost two months, came by the lunch area to talk. Cindy grabbed Don and they were both gone. She had talked with Cindy, Cindy had been her therapist and Nel had told her everything. Cindy at first was pissed as hell at Greg but after watching him had seen he had never meant to hurt Nel. When this meeting came Cindy grabbed Don and ran because she knew what was happening. It looked to Nel like Greg too had seen how things were going to happen. Maybe Cindy had tipped him off. It didn't matter. Nel told him she understood he still loved her but it was over. She had zero feelings for him; just a big blank spot. Nothing at all.

She knew in her head that she shouldn't blame him but she concluded that her heart just was not getting the message. If by now it wasn't coming back it was not coming back at all. He was an incredible person she had loved and she had lots of fun with him but it was over.

Desert Chronicles · Bound 5 · Part 2 (2/2)
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