A Night in the Desert

A Night In The Desert

Chapter I

She had planned it all very carefully. The time, the location, weather, equipment, everything was perfect. Now she faced the one last decision to put her plan into action, the final moment at which she could stop, back out, and change her mind. Little did she realize how a simple weekend outing would so profoundly change her life.

It had all started months ago. During the week Sue Ann Mendel was an accountant at a bank in one of the more undistinguished office buildings downtown. But on weekends her hobby was scouting the surrounding desert for old Indian petroglyphs, a passion that often found her exploring the more isolated areas outside of town. She enjoyed a modest reputation as a knowledgeable amateur archaeologist, welcomed at seminars put on by the Anthropology department at the University, tolerated by many of the mine owners whose vast land holdings usually included the better archaeological petroglyph sites.

That goodwill with local landowners had been the seed that had grown into her plan. She had access to the remote mining roads, private areas fenced off from the public. Many of those sites were played out, deserted for years, but the roads were still in good shape. One area in particular had caught her attention on a foray some weeks ago. It was secluded, more than 100 miles from town, a good twenty-mile drive down a private road off one of the least traveled highways in the state. The mine road was unmarked and gated, on private land. There were no other roads in or out. Even better, once past some hills the road stretched across a valley to the mine head at the far end, a valley completely hidden from view from the highway. At the far end she could see anyone else coming her way long before they arrived. All in all it would a perfect location for what she was going to attempt.

During the week Sue Ann sat at her desk on the fifth floor of the bank building. She had enough seniority to swing a window and a cubicle, but not enough to warrant a view of anything better than the Sheriff's building across the street. Detention Center was the polite term, but everyone called it the city jail. Most mornings she would see the deputies bring out prisoners being transported on the Courthouse bus, or infrequently to the small vans which took the less fortunate ones off to the State Prison. Shielded by the cubicle walls from her fellow employees she would watch in fascination as the female prisoners were brought out, usually handcuffed in pairs for the minor offenders, but a few times she would see heavily restrained women, handcuffed, legs chained together, led to a van or car and driven away by guards. Those occasions were the ones she studied, noting details, for they stirred something in her.

When she had first seen one of the female prisoners, in shackles and arm gripped tightly by one of the jail guards, Sue Ann had lain awake most of that following night, thinking about the scene, imagining herself in that woman's place, powerless, controlled, at the mercy of a stranger. For days afterward she had that same image in her mind. Each day while she worked she had kept one eye on her window, hoping to see more of the same. A few times women were brought in or taken to court, but it was nearly two weeks before she again saw a woman in what Sue Ann came to think of as full restraint, handcuffs and leg chains, even a waist chain to hold the handcuffs close to the body.

As part of her work Sue Ann was proficient in searching the Internet. Now she turned those talents to finding out about her obsession. It didn't take long to learn it had a name, bondage, and there were plenty of discreet web sites which catered to those with such tastes. Sue Ann spent over a month searching all the web sites she could find, reading stories, essays, and commentary on safety. Best of all she found sites which would supply all the equipment that she could want.

Sue Ann lived alone, few friends and no close relatives. Her salary wasn't in the stratospheric range but her expenses were few, which left her with quite a bit of discretionary income. Carefully at first, she started to acquire some gear for herself, always through a web site that offered mail order delivery in nondescript packages.

A good quality set of police type handcuffs was her first acquisition. The day the package came she had unwrapped it carefully, reading the small instruction sheet over and over. Several times she worked the mechanism, opening and closing the cuffs, double locking them and then unlocking them with the key. The moment when she first closed one of the cuffs on her wrist was a memorable one. Eyes almost shut she had slowly closed the cuff, counting the clicks on the ratchet, stopping when the cuff was still slightly loose around her wrist but snug enough that she could not slip it off. Then she had opened the other cuff and set it on her other wrist, not closing it, but testing to see if she could unlock the first cuff if her hands were secured together. Since she could easily reach the lock, she had closed the second cuff.

The feel of the handcuffs, fastening her wrists together, restraining her, had been like the rush of some powerful drug. It didn't take long for her to build up a collection of restraints: handcuffs, waist chains, leg irons. Within a month she had at least one of every kind of restraints she had ever seen the police use. She practiced with all of them, learning how each one restricted her movements, how to position them so she could free herself with a key. At night and on weekends she would wear some of her restraints for hours at a time, to experience the feel of the steel holding her, controlling her. Often she would have images, sexual in nature, of some man placing her in bondage, forcing her to do his bidding. Those dreams she found disturbing but strangely pleasurable, even erotic.

Sue Ann had never told anyone of her secret obsession. By nature she was a very private person, her fetish for bondage she felt was too intimate to share with someone else. There were groups on the Internet, some even met in the city, but she wasn't ready to go public yet. She had decided for now to keep it to herself, perhaps one day she might participate in an Internet group, but certainly she would not meet anyone face to face.

So she kept to herself, searching the Internet for ideas, new restraints, and working on ever more exotic bondage scenes for herself. And that had led her to her current plan. Watching the prisoners across the street, she had wondered what it would be like to be a real prisoner, unable to free herself, perhaps one who had escaped from her guard and was on the run, but still in restraints. Was there a way she could duplicate the same situation, but also be able to free herself and not rely on someone else to rescue her?

She would need a secluded area, outdoors but guaranteed no one else would find her. She would be bound with chains, required to travel some distance before she could be released. It would incorporate some of the same elements as her fantasy, fear of being discovered, the need to reach some specific place where she could hide, or in reality free herself. That's when Sue Ann remembered the abandoned mine site. She had searched the area for petroglyphs once before, the mine owner had given her a gate key and blanket permission to visit anytime, the only restriction a request she not go inside any mineshafts. The road was paved, a gentle rise from the valley to the mine itself, quite isolated, perfect terrain for an easy hike. The mine was played out and shut down, no one had any reason to go there now, and there were no other open mines in the vicinity.

The plan was quite simple. She would sleep through the day Saturday, and then drive to the mine that evening after a last minute weather check. After crossing the valley, there was a small shack at the base of the hills before the road went up to the mine entrance. She would drop off her equipment at the shack, then drive on up to the mine, about four miles further up the road. She would ride her bicycle down to the shack, change into her prisoner outfit, and then walk back up the road to her car. The challenge would be that the only keys to her restraints would be in the car; once she locked the cuffs on she would have to go the distance. The hike would be difficult, the night would be dark, restraints would slow her down, but the road pavement was still in very good condition and easy to follow. There would be some time pressure, the night was cool but if she took too long the sun would come up, and temperatures soared quickly then. And there would always be that chance, however slight, that someone would find her. The likelihood was remote, plus at night she would see headlights from approaching cars giving her plenty of time to hide or try to reach her own car.

She would want a dark night, little or no moon, which would make it more interesting. She couldn't wear a blindfold; that would be too dangerous if she strayed off the road. She imagined herself wandering through the desert in circles for days, unable to see the road a few yards away, while buzzards circled overhead. A moonless night would give her only feeble starlight, she would still be nearly blind, but if she got off the road all she had to do was wait for dawn. She didn't want to be out during the day, but in an emergency she could make it before the day got too hot. The darkness would act as her blindfold.

The web sites had always cautioned about being safe. Sue Ann wanted to leave some outs in case she miscalculated. Originally she was going to put the only set of keys in the car, but decided to leave a spare set in the shack with her bike, if something went wrong she could turn around and get those spare keys, but to take away temptation she would place them in a box with a combination lock, and no flashlight. If she went back she would have to wait for dawn.

Came the day, she was ready. The weather forecast was perfect: cool at night, very warm during the day but survivable, and no moon that night. Sue Ann selected her equipment carefully, put it in a gym bag and put her bicycle in the trunk. She had set off on her adventure in the afternoon, three hours later she arrived at the mine shack. Out came the duffel bag containing her restraints, and a small metal lockbox with the extra keys inside. The box was made of heavy gauge steel with a sturdy hasp, bashing it with a rock wasn't going to get it open. She placed both items in the shed, and then drove up to the mine entrance. Her car was parked off to the side in a cul-de-sac, not visible from the mineshaft doors or immediate area

She took her bike out of the trunk, placed the original set of keys on the driver's seat, and made sure the car doors were not locked. The last thing she wanted to do was hammer away at the window trying to break it with a rock when she got back. One final check to make sure everything was ready, and then Sue Ann got on her bicycle and rode back down to the shack. When she arrived at the shack the sun was setting. She stored the bike in a corner of the shack and then began to lay out the items in the gym bag. She had a flashlight in case it got dark before she was ready. After she changed she would put the flashlight into the lockbox with the extra keys. Without a light she wouldn't be able to open the combination lock until dawn, which would be more than eight hours away. Once the box was closed she was committed to her hike back to the car, or a long, uncomfortable and boring wait in the shack.

Time to begin, she began to undress. One last bit of excitement to add to her plan, she would be wearing nothing but shoes and her restraints, the cuffs and chains she had brought for the hike. The cool night desert air felt good against her bare skin. She experienced a small thrill at being nude; she would be completely exposed if anyone did find her. It added to the fear of discovery, a way of simulating the fugitive's fear of being apprehended. She folded her clothes and placed them neatly in the bag. There was an extra set of clothes in the trunk of her car.

The next phase of her plan was to transform into the fugitive prisoner. Her equipment lay before her on the floor of the shack; all she had to do was fasten the steel onto her body. She picked up the leg chains first. Some thought had gone into what she would use. She needed to be able to walk, but she wanted to feel restricted, captive, and unable to run away if pursued. She had chosen to bring a set of police type leg irons, good quality ones, but these had been special ordered with a shorter linking chain, only ten inches instead of the more common fourteen to fifteen inch length. She locked a cuff around each ankle, loose enough to slip a finger between the cuff and her skin, but snug enough she couldn't slip them off. The thick socks would provide enough padding so her ankles wouldn't bruise, and the high-topped hiking boots would keep the leg cuffs off her anklebone. She double locked both cuffs so they wouldn't tighten further, then stood and took a few steps. Her stride was less than half of normal, but she could walk without too much difficulty. The leg chains would be limiting in other ways too. She couldn't put her underwear or shorts back on, she wouldn't be able to kick or run, and any type of climbing would be very difficult.

Satisfied she would have enough mobility to make it to her car, she continued with her restraints. Next was a waist chain. This went around her waist and locked in front using a sturdy padlock, one without any sharp edges. In the center of her back was a ring just large enough to fit a pair of handcuffs, but too small for her wrist. The waist chain would serve as an anchor, holding the cuffs behind her back so she couldn't work her cuffed hands down and then step through them. Part of her plan was to not be able to use her hands, to add to the fantasy state of mind of vulnerability. She wanted to make sure her hands were firmly imprisoned behind her back. The waist chain was tight enough that she couldn't slide it down over her hips, but not tight enough to be uncomfortable. Once the handcuffs were on and connected to her waist her reach would be the area around the small of her back, enough to retrieve the keys in her car but not much else.

She picked up the handcuffs and locked one end around her right wrist. As with the leg irons she had given some thought to what kind of handcuffs to use, finally deciding on the old British Darby type. These cuffs were not as secure as more modern ones, magicians favored them for their relatively weak locks, but they would work well enough on her. She was no escape artist, the only way she knew to remove them was using the key or a hacksaw, and neither would be available to her during her hike. The big advantage was the wide cuff would be easier on her wrists. Given that she would be wearing them for several hours comfort was more important than security. The older design did add weight, but not enough to cause problems. The particular pair she had brought was loose fitting and non-adjustable so they wouldn't tighten on her wrists, but from her testing at home she knew she couldn't slip them. Once locked on she would not be able to remove them without the key.

Her last step would be to place her hands behind her back, work the loose end of the handcuffs through the ring on the waist chain, then fasten her wrists together. From that point on she would have to follow through, it was the point of no return in her plan. But before she did that, she gathered up the spare keys along with the flashlight and placed them in the lockbox. She closed the lid and placed the combination lock through the hasp. If she closed it she would still have to wait for dawn, or walk to her car with the leg chains on, but at least her hands would be free. She closed the padlock and set the box down, next to her bike. No more keys, she had to get it right the first time from now on. Her clothes went into the bag which had originally held the restraints.

She walked over to the open door of the shack, looking out. She could make out the dim outline of the mountains, but no details. The last glow of sundown had faded from the horizon, leaving a clear desert sky alive with stars, but they provided little light for her to see. The road was directly in front of her, all she had to do was take a few steps to reach the pavement, and then turn to her left and start walking. It was time to begin, to turn her fantasy into reality.

She reached behind her back, slipped the cuffs through the ring on the waist chain, and placed the cuff around her left wrist. The spring lock on this pair of handcuffs was very stiff; she closed it by pushing the locking bar against the doorframe of the shack. She tested her bonds; the cuffs around her wrists were on solidly, holding her hands close behind her back. She could move them back and forth a few inches, even sliding the waist chain sideways with some effort, but her reach was sharply limited. When she tried to move her hands down, up, or out the waist chain held, keeping her hands close together at the back of her waist. All she could manage was some movement side to side. She could turn her wrists within the cuffs, there would be no problem with circulation or pinched nerves.

Her preparations were complete. She was bound, helpless, her nude body in the grip of cold unrelenting steel; a prisoner whose only chance for freedom would be to reach her hideout before being caught. Ahead was a long arduous hike to her car and safety. Until she reached her goal and retrieved the keys that would free her she was trapped, a captive of the restraints she wore, barely able to move, exposed and vulnerable, unable to offer even token resistance if anyone should find her. A shiver of excitement ran through her, this was what she longed for. No choices were left to her, no more decisions.

She stood in the doorway for a moment more, calming herself and gathering her thoughts. Regardless of what happened next she would be irrevocably bound in chains for the next several hours. She looked down the road across the valley. Once she started her hike, if anyone came along she would be in trouble. Though she would have some warning from headlights and could conceal herself in the desert near the side of the road, she would be isolated and cut off from her rescue, the keys in her car. If someone found her bicycle and lock box in the shack, then went on to her car, she could face the choice of being stranded or revealing herself.

Any attempt to leave the paved road would be difficult. With her ankles linked together she could not step over or through the brush. Her bare skin had no protection against cactus or thorns. Even something as simple as a pebble in her shoe would be disabling. If she came to a ditch, which she could normally jump over, it would be an impassible barrier unless she could find a trail across it. If she did have to hide, she would be taking a considerable risk.