Why am I doing this here? This thought flashes through her mind.

It's the first time, actually, that she ever thinks why?" At the same time, she also wonders why she hasn’t asked herself this question yet. Usually, she doesn’t get involved with anyone that easily, let alone subordinate herself to others. No, she is not herself; this is not the woman she knows. Or is it?

Confident is how she likes to see herself; up to the situation, superior- a little bit dominant. But self-confidence is definitely needed for this game she’s getting into. Or is it more courage? Is it crazy curiosity, or is it a longing for the sparkling unknown? It's probably a little bit of everything.

Lost in thought, she looks out of the window, watching the lights passing by outside. The inner tension increases more and more. She has no idea what will await her at the destination.

At the destination? Where would that be? Is it the place printed on her ticket? Questions for which she knows no answer.

In the meantime, the lights have disappeared again. It is dark outside. She sees no moonlight. She recognizes herself in the mirror image of the windowpane. For a moment, she looks deep into her eyes. Even the look on her own face is unfamiliar. She cannot fathom what it is, but she suspects. There is now no going back.

The voice from the speaker breaks the monotony of the driving noise. "Ladies and gentlemen, at the next stop we reach Zollikofen!"

She looks at the clock: a quarter to twelve. Since Lucerne, she has had the compartment for herself. She is thirsty. In the last car, there is a drinks machine. The train attendant told her that at the ticket inspection. She decides to get a soda can there and leaves the compartment. She has no luggage with her and almost nobody is on the train. The only person she sees on the way there is the conductor sitting in his compartment in the neighbouring car. Besides him, there are some pretty shabby guys she passed in coach class.

She feels a little uncomfortable with the way she is dressed. Quite different than usual. She prefers to wear comfortable things in college, not a tight skirt like today and no such shoes. She's not used to walking in those high things. And this in a swinging train. She gets some water from the machine and staggers back to her seat.

Just after she opens the compartment door, she flinches. Somebody put two pairs of silvery shiny handcuffs on her seat. She looks around, startled in the corridor of the compartment car. Not a soul. She closes the door behind her, sits down, drinks some of the water and takes the handcuffs in her hand.

Should they be for her? Does he really believe that she would put them on here? No way! Certainly not, as long as he doesn’t show himself. She resolutely puts the handcuffs aside. For the first time, she has doubts about whether it was a good idea to get involved in this game.

Her thoughts wander back:

About six weeks ago, she had met him at a campus party. Somehow, he had managed to cast a spell over her and she could not resist his obvious preferences. His style was casual, his appearance different; carefree, spontaneous and yet profound, the shoulder-length, dark hair he usually tied together in a braid. His black clothes and long black leather coat seemed to come from flea markets. His dark eyes were piercing, his smile and his deep voice engaging. He electrified her.

Last week, they had talked together in the café at the train station for two hours. She was then driving home in agitation, could hardly sleep that night. His charisma fascinated her. She felt secure in his presence and she was sure she would surrender to him. She wanted it.

She remembered him asking her a few days ago if she would let him tie her up. She would never have believed that something like that could happen to her. She said spontaneously, "Yes, gladly." The glow in his black-brown eyes following her answer told her that it was special to him as well. She asked him after a moment of silence, how would he do it? And what would happen then?

He just replied, "I will own you, but I will not hurt you. I will always treat you as a woman. "

What those words meant... she asked herself this question over and over again since last week.

She picks up the handcuffs and looks at them. It's the first time she has had such a thing in her hand. She turns the clasp. klaklaklaklak She feels the goosebumps that this sound causes on her skin.

She looks down at herself. An unfamiliar sight, but she has tried to fulfill his instructions as accurately as possible. The tight skirt is grey, knee-length. The black stockings she had bought on a whim, on a recent shopping trip in Zurich. The black top that she is wearing is sleeveless and has a high neckline, and it is a bit transparent. The shape of the top emphasizes her young breasts even more. During the day she wouldn’t like to wear it, but in the semi-darkness, one can barely see the black, strapless bra she wears underneath. She looks older than she is in this outfit. The shoes are crazy high. They have small straps from her toes over the back of her foot.

She puts a hand in the handcuff, lost in thought, asks herself if she should close it, but then puts the cuffs aside again. No, if he wants me like that, he has to do it himself, she thinks. She gets up to open the compartment window a little. The fresh wind blows through her sleek dark hair.

Suddenly, it gets pitch-black in the compartment. The entire car lighting seems to have failed. A moment later, she sees the shadow of a figure approaching her. It is so dark that she cannot recognize a face. It also seems to her at this second that he is wearing a mask. She is terrified. The stranger takes her by the arm and lays a cloth over her mouth first. Then a second one follows over her eyes. He puts her facing the window in the middle of the compartment.

She wavers, she cannot explain why she is not trying to fight back. He holds her hand and fastens the handcuff to it, clicks the other end into the luggage net. The same thing happens with the other hand on the other side.

She feels a hint of panic. Fear? She pulls at the shackles. It makes a very audible noise. He stands behind her, gently placing a hand on her neck and whispering softly and long: "Psssssst." More does not happen.

She tries to control herself. She cannot tell if it's really him. He has never touched her before. If only she could see him!

She feels a hand wandering and groping over her body, over her stomach down to her hips. The hand begins to open the zipper of her skirt. It falls to the ground. Without hesitation, he pulls down her black panties. She obediently raises her feet to have the clothes removed. Finally, he slowly and gently unhooks the clasp of her bra and takes it under her top from her body. Then he silently leaves the compartment.

New panic in her. The blood shoots through her head. She bites on her gag. Should she scream? Who will find her? What would someone do with her then, the way she stands here, bound with stretched arms, exposed?

She stands there for minutes. Infinitely long minutes. She tries to grab the luggage rack in order to hold on better. After a short while, the train slows down. The typical hissing and rattling. She has to hold on, so she reaches for the luggage net. The train drives slowly for a few minutes and finally stops. Then silence. The train is standing. Her knees are getting soft. She doesn’t know if the train has entered a station or if it has stopped on the open road. She sees nothing, has to stand with her arms spread and bare pussy and wait for what happens.

Then there are footsteps in the corridor. The compartment door opens. She flinches, automatically trying to protectively squeeze her legs together. Without a word, her handcuffs get opened and locked in front of her body. The stranger ties her ankles with the second pair. She twitches, almost stumbles. He catches her and lifts her up. She is carried out. He seems to be making no effort to carry her through the narrow corridors and through the door. Outside he obviously carries her along the platform.

Although she has every reason to scream for help just as she is being abducted in chains, she does not even attempt to resist. After a few minutes, he puts her back on her feet. She suddenly stands at some kind of pole. Her hands are tied to the pillar behind her back. He opens the cuffs at her ankles. Gently but surely, he spreads her legs apart. Subtly he brushes over her pubic hair.

After that... silence again. No touch, no movement.

In the distance, she hears the honking of a freight train. A rumbling noise, which is getting louder. It makes her nervous. He would not hurt her, he said. She tries to remembers that.

The rumble of the distant train is getting louder, getting closer, louder, closer, louder... There is the panic again which she cannot fight back. The deafening horn must have been right next to her when it started. She squeezes her eyes and mouth together, tugs at the cuffs. The wind of the train whips her body. Then the monster of steel is gone. Nocturnal silence. In the distance, she hears soft voices. The cold sweat runs down her thighs.

The blindfold and the gag are now removed. He stands in front of her, smiles softly at her, and asks, "How are you?" without seriously awaiting an answer.

Now that she sees him, she is relieved. She tries to perceive her surroundings. It may be a hundred yards from her to the end of the platform of a small train station. She is chained to a signal mast with her legs spread. It's pitch-dark around her. In the distance, she recognizes a few people waiting on the illuminated platform. What if these people would see her here?

This, however, does not seem to bother him. He begins to caress her, her neck, her shoulders, her bent arms. She is shaking. Her helplessness infuses her almost in a frightening way with pleasure. She feels her moisture, her senses. He touches her. It seems his hands are suddenly everywhere. A hand moves over her slightly opened lips. A thumb pushes demandingly into her mouth, playing with her tongue, which greedily approaches it. But at once the thumb soaked in her saliva withdraws from the play of her tongue and gently strokes her lips.

She feels the movements of his hand on her legs, slowly but surely approaching the inside of her spread thighs. A pain passes through her abdomen. His fingers gain entry. Relentless, but then gentle, he penetrates her. She relaxes her muscles, allowing him to do so. A groaning cry of lust and redemption presses out of her. Drops of excitement run down her thigh. He looks her in the eye. She looks at him. Ecstasy shines in her eyes, lust in his eyes. She approaches her climax faster and faster, his fingers deep inside her. She loses herself, she vibrates, she comes with a raging orgasm.

At the moment of her climax, the horn of a new passing train numbs her ears and tears the silence. The windstorm ruffles her hair and she screams with ecstasy and lust.