|Gromet's Plaza||Bondage Stories|
|firstname.lastname@example.org | Forum Feedback|
|© 2006 - Jezziebelle - Used by permission|
|storycodes: M/f; bond; public; toys; cons; X|
|Night Train by Jezziebelle M/f; bond; public; toys; cons; X|
This story stands on its own, but it is actually a sequel – a while ago I wrote a story called Dream Assignment, which is in the archives of this site. If you didn't read Dream Assignment, all you need to know is that Jack, the owner of a rather up market bondage club, initiated journalist Josie into its pleasures as she researched an article on the club for her new magazine. The article has just been published, and everyone is reading it…
Suggestions for new episodes always welcome!
Jack stowed his black holdall on the overhead shelf and took his first class seat next to a blonde businesswoman, as the train pulled slowly out of the station and into the twilight.
Glancing up at the newcomer, Annie was about to return to the papers she was reading for tomorrow's meeting, but something made her look twice. Was it the handsome features, or the indefinable expression in his eyes that made her pause? Whatever it was, she smiled in greeting before dragging her eyes back to the papers.
The people in the coach slowly settled down for the two hour journey to the next stop. Having stowed his belongings and placed his book on the seatback table, Jack cast an assessing glance over the woman beside him. At most 35 years old, immaculate shoulder length blonde hair, with serious, slender features that matched the elegant yet sober skirt and jacket she wore. The perfect businesswoman. So very calm and collected…
And on the drop-down table in front of her, a copy of the magazine whose cover story announced his profession. He smiled to himself, unused to fame outside his select community.
"It helps if you read all the words, rather than just the first three," he said, suddenly, after ten minutes casually watching her eyes start to the read the first paragraph of her paper over and over again. Startled, Annie glanced up, but relaxed when she saw his cheerful grin. He was right – it was hard to concentrate this evening. She took in his dark hair, extraordinarily blue eyes and intoxicating smile and decided she'd done enough work for one day.
She shoved her papers back into the briefcase between her feet. "Can I get you a drink?" she asked, as the refreshment trolley rolled past. He accepted, and they chatted amiably for some time.
The train had picked up speed across the rapidly darkening countryside. "What did you say you did?" asked Annie, realising he had let her unburden herself of all her work worries.
"I didn't", he replied, "but you can find out if you turn to page 24 of that magazine. In fact I've just come back from seeing a very special client." He never begrudged making the trip to see his favourite client, even if she did live 200 miles away. She was one of the very few whose imagination sometimes seemed to exceed even his own, and he loved a challenge.
"You're in here?" Annie exclaimed, flipping through the pages of her magazine. "That's too much of a coincidence."
Jack sat silently, watching Annie as she carefully read every word of the article. About his club. About him. About his clients, and what he did to them. About the first time experience he'd given Josie, the journalist who'd written the article.
Perhaps she'd excuse herself and go and find another seat, but he doubted it. When eventually she looked back up at him, her expression was calm – but something twinkled deep inside her eyes.
He was never wrong.
"Wow," said Annie, closing the magazine and laying it back on the table. "I've never met a celebrity before."
He laughed. "You flatter me."
"So you've been visiting a client today?" He nodded, and pointed up to his holdall stashed above them.
"Tools of the trade," he said. "Never travel without them." He saw her pupils dilate almost imperceptibly as she imagined what he had in there. Around them, the other passengers read, dozed or spoke into mobile phones. It was all rather incongruous.
"Perhaps you could come visit me one day," he suggested, and watched a succession of emotions flash across her face – delight, fear and disappointment.
"I can't," she replied, so down-hearted he felt sorry for her. "I'd love to, but I live in the U.S. – emigrated three years ago. I'm flying back tomorrow night."
"Oh well, that's a pity," he replied automatically, an idea suddenly popping into his mind. He sat back, and made as if he thought the conversation was over.
Her disappointment – despair, even – was palpable. Tension vied with dejection as she sat uncomfortably beside him. To have something so wonderful offered, and then cruelly snatched away, was worse than not being offered it at all.
He was relying on that to make her accept the next part of his plan.
Annie gazed out of the window at the dark landscape, feeling flushed yet empty. It wasn't fair. She hadn't even been conscious of her desires till five minutes ago, but having them dashed was beyond painful.
"If you wanted," he said, suddenly, making her jump, "I could give you a demonstration now." His voice was slow and controlled, but dangerous.
"What, here, on the train?" Fear rapidly overtook disappointment, and she looked at him warily. Maybe she wasn't ready after all…
"No one would see," he said reassuringly. "If you could lend me your scarf, I could show you what I mean."
She wore a long, thin woven silk scarf around her neck. Reflexively putting her hand up to it, she frowned. "What are you doing to do?"
He pushed aside her hesitation by reaching for the scarf himself. "Nothing much. Just wait and see."
Oh, to play in public was a rare pleasure. For the moment, they were cocooned within a wall of commuter loneliness – none of the other passengers so much as glanced their way. On the other hand, they might at any moment…
With small, discrete movements he got Annie to rest both her arms on the arm rests at either side of her, palms down, fingers gripping the ends. He could feel her pulse rushing through the veins in her wrists as she sat back, giving in.
"I just want to show you how much can be achieved with so little," he said, beginning to wind one end of the scarf round and round the wrist nearest to him, pinning it to the armrest. He knotted it securely, and, checking that no one was looking, reached across to repeat the process with the wrist nearest the window. Before panic could set in, he pulled her coat down from the overhead shelf and draped it across her lap so it hid her bound wrists.
Her head was bowed, her breathing slightly faster than normal. Delicately, she tested her freedom, and when she discovered movement was pretty limited, she sat motionless, not wanting to cause a scene.
"Does that feel OK?" he asked, as if he was asking about a pair of new shoes. She nodded.
"I can't believe I'm letting you do this to me," she whispered. She looked around, nervously, expecting any moment someone to ask what was going on, but no one was interested. But oh god, it felt so strange – so good. Shivers ran up and down her spine till she thought she would cry out.
Jack gave her a moment or two to get used to the new sensation, then bent down in his seat. Wondering what he was up to, Annie nearly gave a shout when she felt his hands on her ankles, feeling what kind of shoes she was wearing. It had to be today that she'd chosen to wear the ankle strap ones. Expertly, he unbuckled one strap and ran it through the other one, before fastening it again. Looped together, her shoes held her legs prisoner.
Still none of the passengers had noticed anything. Annie tugged at her wrists, her feet, and glared at Jack. "Let me go," she whispered.
"I don't think you really mean that," he retorted, and she had no answer to that, because she didn't mean it.
Jack loved the way she sat so demurely whilst bound hand and foot in the first class carriage of a high speed train. Annie's thoughts were anything but demure. Thrilled to be at the mercy of the acknowledged expert from her magazine, she was still terrified. She watched with trepidation as, after five minutes of watching her squirming, Jack rose and lifted down his black holdall from the overhead shelf. Heaven knows what it contained. Jack caught her eye and held her gaze, as from a pocket in the side he produced two items. The first, a small bottle filled with a clear liquid; the second, a small, smooth, silver thumb-sized object that could only have one function.
He shoved them quickly into his pocket as the refreshments trolley rolled past once again and both he and Annie had to smile politely and say no thanks.
Recovering from the shock of near discovery, Annie once again tested her bonds and looked in frustrated arousal at Jack. Why was she letting him do this? It was beyond madness.
Jack unscrewed the cap of the bottle and a slight flowery smell rose to Annie's nostrils. The bottle had a foam top underneath the cap, the sort you could squeeze the contents through.
"You may find this a little strange," he said without irony. Annie laughed.
"Maybe a little," she conceded, wondering at her situation.
"Since we're going for discrete, I don't think a ball gag is appropriate. I do have a couple in my bag," he added, enjoying the look on her face as she was shocked, surprised, scared and delighted all over again. "This is a little concoction I make myself. Completely natural, non-toxic, and tasteless. Washes away with mild detergent."
"What is it?"
"It has all sorts of uses," he mused, refusing to let on. He checked no one was watching, and gestured for her to open her mouth.
She almost pulled away, but fear of making a scene stopped her, and under protest she let him smear a few drops of the liquid onto her bottom lip. It tingled slightly. She froze, staring at him wide-eyed, not wanting to move.
Gently, he lifted her chin till her mouth closed naturally, and held it there for a few seconds before taking his hand away. Instantly, Annie tried to open her mouth again, and couldn't. Her lips had been fused together.
"Don't panic," he said softly, "it's perfectly safe." She did trust him, though she didn't know why – but the sensation of speechlessness made it all seem suddenly more serious.
From where Jack sat, Annie looked perfectly normal. He knew from past experience that she would be able to smile naturally, but not open her mouth at all without painfully pulling her lips apart. He soothed her as panic welled up inside her, then slowly subsided as he held her gaze. Her eyes had developed that far-away look that he recognised so well – the look his clients had when he pushed them to their limits, and beyond. As for himself, he could feel his trousers stirring, but this moment was for her.
Annie sat back in her chair and closed her eyes, not opening them even when she felt Jack slide the silver bullet up under her skirt and seat it between her now very wet thighs, pressing hard against her. Its vibrations were silent, low, and intense, and she gave in to them at once. Jack relaxed, leaving her to enjoy herself. He took up a newspaper, and began to read.
It took an hour for the battery to wear down. As the train sped on towards its destination, and train life continued around her, Annie sank into a delirious world. She barely moved – just a twitch here and there to check that yes, she was indeed bound hand and foot and yes, she was indeed powerless to speak, and yes, she had let this deeply sexy and disturbing stranger do this to her… The first orgasm welled up so slowly, took her so high, that she couldn't believe the final climax was still to come until it did come, and it took all her conscious resources to smooth her face into a passable imitation of sleep, in case anyone was watching. Jack didn't rescue her. He left her till the vibrator exhausted itself and her, bringing her finally to a constant state of orgasmic arousal, with no end in sight.
Annie awoke from her daze as she felt Jack's hand deftly remove the bullet from between her thighs. She gazed at him weakly, not registering that he was changing the battery. Slowly, the realisation dawned that he had his coat on, and that the train was slowing.
Let me go, her eyes implored him, but he smiled and shook his head. "This is my stop," he said casually, replacing the replenished vibrator between her legs and standing up. For the first time, Annie seriously tugged at her bonds, and discovered they were tight enough for real, not just for play. Adrenaline began to flood her veins. She gave a quiet but emphatic 'mmph', which he ignored. Now that he was no longer sitting beside her, she felt so very exposed, even though her coat still hid the knots binding her to the chair.
He reached across and carefully slipped what looked like a business card inside her shirt, before following the other passengers off the train.
Jack smiled back at her angry face as he stood on the platform, waiting for the train to pull out. Her stop was another hour down the line. The battery should last till then, and someone would surely free her at the other end. It might be a little embarrassing for her, but he knew he would be seeing her again, U.S.A. or no U.S.A.
As the heavy carriages began to roll, she was leaning back in her chair,
eyes closed, succumbing to what looked like the biggest orgasm yet.
You can also leave feedback & comments for this story on the Plaza Forum
01.06.06 | updated - 25.04.17
If you've enjoyed this story, please write to the author and let them know - they may write more!