Naked in the Amusement Park

NAKED IN THE AMUSEMENT PARK

An exhibitionist seeks adventure

by G. Lawrence

Like many stories on Literotica, this one may cross several categories, but the principle character seeks to be naked outdoors so I'm classifying it as exhibitionist. This story is not intended to be realistic. It's a fantasy. The events that take place are not recommended for real life. All characters are over 18 years old.

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I was shopping in the local gift shop when I noticed a book on lost amusement parks and discovered there was one just outside of town. I hadn't lived in Midvale very long, only since graduating college and moving there for a job, so everything was still new to me. On a Saturday morning, I drove ten miles south but had trouble finding anything, and then realized I could use the GPS. And there it was, off an old road barely visible behind bushes and weeds.

The Rabbit Patch Amusement Zone had been popular in the 1960s, declined in the 1970s, and had a rebirth in the 1990s before closing forever in 2002. For the last twenty-three years it had been unattended, surrounded by a chain-link fence and no trespassing signs. As there was no one around, I slipped through the crooked gate to take a look.

I should explain. My name is Amanda Caller, I'm twenty-three years old, with a nice slim figure, long brown hair, big brown eyes, and I constantly fantasize about self-bondage. I don't know where the fascination came from, but I've had it as long as I can remember. Even as a little girl, I would secretly tie myself up and pretend boys, or even girls, had caught me. There had been a few embarrassing incidents, especially the one in my high school locker room, and the occasional mischance in college, but little to write home about. Well, actually, there is a lot to write home about, but I won't.

The abandoned park once had carnival rides, now largely dismantled. The skeleton of a Ferris wheel. The bones of a small rollercoaster. A fairyland boat ride, now without water, and a carousel without horses. The haunted house looked haunted. Broken-down booths showed where barkers once had throwing games: darts, rings, baseballs. The rickety ticket booth still had its sign. A stage once offered live music shows, comedians, and clowns. The closed kitchen had made hotdogs, hamburgers, turkey legs, and pulled pork sandwiches. A broad meadow behind the park may have had a petting zoo, judging by the dilapidated animal pens. It looked like a wonderful place to be tied up.

I took photos of everything and made a sketch of the grounds. If I was going to have an adventure here, I needed to know as much as I could. That night, I went online to see what I could find out. Though the meadow behind the park was occasionally used by sports clubs on the weekends, it was rarely visited during mid-week. In the late spring, the weather was usually good, with the occasional evening shower.

A week later, I returned there on a Wednesday, watching traffic and seeing if the park had anyone guarding the premises. It was quiet the whole day. I could have done anything, and no one would ever have known. I began planning my outing, getting my playthings together.

I had quite a toy box, with handcuffs, leather cuffs, chains, rope, collars, leashes, ball gags, and a camera with a remote control. I never showed my exciting photos to anyone. Well, not to almost anyone. But I loved watching them on my laptop, reliving past victories.

Excited by this new opportunity, I removed everything from my car except the toys I wanted, putting them in a plain canvas bag in the trunk. I had decided to go at night, less chance of being discovered, and as it was warm, had no need for a jacket. I wore a white blouse without a bra, my pert tits not needing much support. My short black skirt was nearly at the top of my thighs. No panties. I needed to be careful when bending over in public. Tennis shoes and no socks were everything else I wore, only the bare necessities should I need to stop along the road. An hour after sunset, it was time.

I was frightened and thrilled as I drove towards the old park, which was even less visible now that it was dark. I had a flashlight for getting around, but with a full moon, may not have needed it. An offsite parking area half a mile away would avoid drawing undo attention, for I didn't want security searching for trespassers. I put my car key in a magnetized box under the wheel well. If something happened and I needed to run, leaving my clothes behind, I still wanted access to my escape vehicle. The one time I hadn't led to disaster.

It took fifteen minutes to reach the broken gate, where I squeezed through for the third time, keeping hold of my canvas bag, and went to the haunted house, the only building that was still intact. The shadowy grounds were enticing.

After a final look around, I breathlessly started to take off my clothes. My shoes were stuffed in the bag, allowing me to feel the gravelly dirt beneath my bare feet. It was exquisite. Primitive. Like a cave woman. Then I slowly removed the blouse, standing bare-chested in the open air. I rubbed my firm breasts, feeling the nipples harden. The skirt came last. I dropped it to my ankles like someone had just ordered me to strip, and then stepped out, nude before my ruthless master. Everything went in the bag.

It was time to take out my toys. Handcuffs, a leather collar with a leash, a red ball gag, and a cooler bag with my handcuff key frozen in a block of ice. I strapped the ball gag snugly in my mouth, buckled the collar, and wrapped the leash around my body under my tits, pretending someone had taken control of me. Though one handcuff key was frozen, I taped the spare key to the side of the handcuffs. I had no intention of using the second key, it was for emergencies only. Then I zippered the canvas bag shut and, with a deep fateful breath, locked the handcuffs behind my back.

It felt wonderful. I spent hours walking around the park, fantasizing that I was a stranger's helpless prisoner. Or maybe captured by a biker gang, trembling as they talked of stringing me up, whipping me, and then violating every part of my naked body. Over and over, as I struggled to defend my honor. And when all else failed, I submitted to them body and soul, doing every degrading thing they demanded. I got so hot, I needed to rub my pussy on a fence post, having a fantastic orgasm.

My heart was pumping hard, by breath short, as I enjoyed having this big, amazing playground all to myself. But I needed something more. Something truly daring. In the wee hours of the morning, I went back to my canvas bag, unlocked the handcuffs, and wondered if my plan was really something I should do. Though I had practiced self-bondage in public many times, I had never completely immobilized myself. Now I would.

I put the block of ice with my handcuff key in an old tin can, leaving the cooler bag with my clothes, and went toward an area near the back of the park. Not far from where the petting zoo had once been was the old cement stage. A scary clown face still hung over it on a steel frame, and the frame had rings for supporting banners, props, and scenery. The center pole had a ring about six feet off the ground. High enough to reach standing on my toes. The pole was solidly anchored, which is why it was still standing after all these years. Several decades ago, hundreds of people had watched performers on that stage. Now I imagined they would be watching me, naked, a helpless prisoner, hanging in chains, being mocked and laughed at. My nude body pawed, tormented, and whipped.

The key frozen in the ice was attached to a sturdy nylon string. The ice had already started to melt but would last a few more hours. I put the tin can at the foot of the pole and ran the string up and through the ring. Even bound, I'd be able to draw the key up to my hands once the ice melted and release myself.

Not being dumb, I checked the emergency key taped to the handcuffs. If something went wrong, I could use that key to escape. I took off the leash and tied it around my ankles, making it harder to move, and looked up, cuffing my left hand and hearing the click-click-click of the steel lock. Then I put the other cuff through the ring and tugged to see how strong it was. It was very strong, bolted to the pole.

This was the moment of truth. With my heart pounding like a drum, I locked the second cuff on my right wrist. Click-click-click. And that was it. I was trapped, completely nude, ready to be exploited by any stranger who passed along. I imagined them fondling my body, feeling my most intimate areas with their eager fingers, telling me all the degrading things they were going to do while making clear I had no choice in the matter. I was their toy. Their plaything. I was getting aroused again, but unable to touch myself, squirming with unquenchable desire.

To my surprise, it began to rain. A brief spring shower. Not cold, so I didn't get crazy. The water ran down my unprotected breasts, along my ribs, down my belly, and trickled into my trimmed treasure box. It felt so sexy. I shivered as if someone was spraying me with a hose. Teasing me against my will. And then I heard a strange noise. A clink. I looked down, seeing a handcuff key four feet away lying in a puddle, and looked up. The rain had loosened the tape holding my emergency key! It was gone! Out of reach! Only the key still frozen in the block of ice remained. I felt a surge of panic. Until then, I could have gotten away any time I wanted. Now I was at the mercy of circumstances. I tugged on the nylon string to check on the other key, giving it a quick lift from the can. The ice was still solid. It could be another hour or two before it melted. I was genuinely trapped.

I heard a noise. More noise. Footsteps coming from the direction of the gate. Flashlights beaming back and forth. Who was it? Even if I wanted to scream, I couldn't with the ball gag in my mouth. The footsteps came closer. And then I heard voices.

"This is a waste of time, Sam. No one is fooling around out here in the rain."

"Goddamn it, Jack, if we don't at least check, headquarters will know we've been goofing off. Let's make the rounds and go."

I watched them walk near the haunted house, aiming their flashlights inside the gutted building. They circled the horseless carousel. Looked at the partially collapsed kitchen.

Oh, my god, they're coming right at me! I thought, holding my breath. Would they arrest me? Take photos? Drive me naked in the back of their squad car? I was terrified, and excited, barely able to make out their shapes in the shadows.

"Told you. Nothing," one said.

"Okay, we did our job," the other replied.

They turned and started walking away. "Wait a minute, what's this?" one asked.

"Looks like someone's clothes. Fresh, too. Haven't been here long. Nice little cooler bag."

"What do you think it means?"

"Don't know and don't care."

"What should I do with this stuff?"

"Bring them along. We can show the boss we were really here."

What? They were stealing my clothes! What if something else went wrong? What could I do? My car key was still safe in its magnet box under the wheel well, but I had nothing to wear. Not a stitch. This wasn't working out like I planned.

But at least they hadn't found me. I didn't let out my breath until hearing the gate squeak closed.

It began to rain harder. I wiggled and twisted but couldn't do anything. My hair soaked against the sides of my head. I could smell the leather collar, now drenched. Pulling on the handcuffs was useless. They were too tight to fight.

Alone again, I could only wait, hoping it wouldn't be much longer. I imagined what might have happened if they'd found me. Taken advantage. Bound as I was, there wasn't anything I could do to stop them. The rain finally let up.

It was dawn and the key still hadn't defrosted. What was taking so long? The tin can was resting on wet cement. Had the dampness slowed the melting process? Sunlight burst across the shabby stage. I wasn't hidden in darkness anymore. I was there for anyone to see. And fantasizing about what would happen if they did.

I was still lost in my reverie when I heard more noise, and it wasn't my imagination. I looked to my right, toward the open grass field behind the park, seeing two young men stringing a volleyball net between two poles. I couldn't hear much of what they were saying.

They were nonchalant, kibitzing about sports and girls. Stretching while getting out their sports equipment. I squeezed back, trying to hide behind the pole, hoping they wouldn't see me. They took positions, knocking their ball over the net and back again. Grunting. Working up a sweat in the warm morning air. Not paying attention to anything else. And then the ball came bouncing in my direction.

The man chasing the ball was in his mid-20s, tall with chestnut hair, blue eyes, a clear complexion, and wide shoulders. His buddy was tall, too, with blond hair. He looked like a surfer.

"Leave it, Mike, we have another ball," the blond-haired man shouted from the grass.

"I like this one," Mike answered, looking down as he entered the fairgrounds. He picked up the ball near my feet, turned to leave, and suddenly froze in his tracks.

"My god, what is this?" he sputtered.

He stared at me, eyes wide. I stared back, unable to breathe. I felt so humiliated, hanging there in front of him, entirely naked. My upstretched arms, firm breasts, and neatly trimmed bush on full display. I struggled to lift my legs, but the leash was still tied around my ankles.

"Charley, come here. Come here quick!" Mike called.

Charley came running, afraid his friend had gotten injured, only to be equally startled. Mike carefully took the ball gag from my mouth, letting it hang below my chin.

"What is this? Should we call the police?" Mike asked.

"No, please don't," I answered. "I can explain."

They stood there, waiting. What was I supposed to say?

"I was having a fantasy but lost my key. And the other one is still frozen," I said. They looked down, seeing the emergency key lying in a puddle. Charley picked it up.

"A fantasy? What kind of fantasy is this?" Charley asked.

"I put myself in bondage and pretend ... pretend I've been captured. And used," I admitted.

"Used? As in, someone is having sex with you?" Mike asked.

"Yes," I answered, red-faced.

"You are really pretty. I can see the temptation," Charley said. "What else do your captors do to you?"

Oh, my god, I thought, they aren't in a hurry to release me!

"Sometimes they whip me," I confessed. "And call me names."

"Like slut?" Charley asked. I involuntarily shivered in response, feeling myself getting wet between the legs. Which they were quick to notice.

Mike bent down and drew the second key from the tin can, brushing off the last of the ice, and dangling it before me.

"I guess you'd like to have this?" he asked with a devilish grin.

"Yes, please," I whimpered.

"You can't get loose? Not at all?" Mike questioned, looking at the handcuffs hooked through the ring on the pole. I pulled on the chain to show them how thoroughly I was secured. Then I looked at them, eyes pleading for mercy.

"I'm totally helpless," I assured them.

"What is this key worth to you?" Mike inquired, poking Charley with his elbow.

They had all the power, able to walk away and leave me there. And take my keys. Which they understood as well as I did. I looked around, not sure what to do.

"What's your name?" Mike asked. He was quite good looking. Athletic, with a lean build and an eager smile.

"Amanda."

"Well, Amanda, this is obviously an interesting situation," Mike said. "But we aren't rapists. If you want us to set you free, we will. Right now. No strings attached."

"We might want to take pictures first," Charley suggested, taking out his phone. Mike pushed the phone down, shaking his head with a dismissive frown.

"On the other hand," Mike continued, "if you want to live out your fantasies, we're ready and willing. We have this whole park to enjoy, and you look worth the effort."

"A lot of effort," Charley added, looking me up and down.

"You won't hurt me?" I asked.

"Beyond a good spanking for being a bad girl, we won't hurt you," Mike promised. "If you agree, call me master."

Oh, my god, I was getting so hot, and they saw it, moisture glistening from my treasure box. I saw their reaction, too. The bulges in their sports trunks.

"Please punish me, master," I agreed.

They had the handcuffs opened in seconds, helping to lower my sore arms. I had been up there for hours. They took me to the grass field, laid me on a blanket, and massaged my aching muscles. And other parts, not being shy to touch what they wanted. It felt so good. But they seemed reluctant to go further. I needed to encourage them.

"Please use me, masters, I've been bad," I begged. "Isn't it time you used me?"

And use me they did. With enthusiasm. For the next four hours they took turns with me on my back, on my knees, and riding cowgirl with my hands tied behind my back. I was repeatedly violated, spanked, and forced to suck their rock-hard dicks. When they needed a break, they put me in one of the derelict animal cages and laughed as they took pictures. With my permission. They called me a whore, a slut, a dungeon tramp, and threatened to sell me to white slavers. It was everything I'd always dreamed of.

They were not totally mean. When birdwatchers wandered through in the late morning, they put a blanket over me so I wouldn't be seen. Though Charley kept tickling me, making the birdwatchers wonder if there was a rare species of bird lurking in the meadow.

"You are one crazy girl," Mike said, lying in the grass exhausted.

"That's an understatement," Charley agreed, barely able to catch his breath. They had their clothes back on, limp from their exertions. I was sitting on the ground next to them, handcuffed and naked, hoping they'd get a second wind.

"So, slut, what do you think? We have jobs to go to. Should we chain you to a pole and come back for you later?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, let's do that," Charley urged.

Were they serious? Exciting as it sounded, even I thought that was going too far.

"If we could avoid that, master, I would be grateful," I replied.

"I guess we've had enough for today," Mike decided, removing the handcuffs. I rubbed my wrists, though the cuffs had never been put on tightly.

"Masters, I need a favor," I humbly requested.

"What can we do for you, beautiful slave girl?" Charley said, gently stroking my hair.

"My car is parked down the road, but the security guards took my clothes."

"You have no clothes? Nothing?" Mike asked. "Does this happen to you often?"

"No, this is the first time," I answered. "Well, not exactly the first time. Or the second or third, but it doesn't happen often."

"Tell us what we can do for you, our exciting new friend," Mike said, giving me a loving kiss. Which stirred me up again.

"Can you help me get back to my car? And loan me a shirt so I can get home?" I humbly requested.

"I have a better idea," Charley suggested. "How about we lead you down the highway on your leash totally naked and let passersby honk at you?"

"Oh, please don't do that," I begged, hoping he was kidding.

"Don't worry, little girl, we won't let the public have you. You are too valuable a prize for that," Mike pledged.

"Thank you, master," I said with relief.

"There is something we would like to ask you, Amanda. If you're onboard?" Charley said, suddenly hesitant.

"Yes?"

"Next week, Mike and I are supposed to play the Blue Ducks here at 7 a. m. They always beat us," he explained. "If there was a naked girl handcuffed to a pole, it might distract them."

"At the very least, you would wear them out," Mike added.

"Four guys?" I asked.

"Yes, it would be all four of us," Charley confirmed.

"Would you tie me up? Spank me, and take me in every imaginable way while the others watch? And after, will you carry me back to your pirate ship, share me with your crew, and sell me at a slave auction?"

"Yes, we will," Charley assured me. I tried not to smile.

"What time did you say?"