By Clyde Holt

Originally Published in Bondage Life No.  30, November 1987

Transcribed by guardian46w

Story Codes: F/m, bond, cons, rom, rope, blindfold, straps, spread, bed, chair, tease, edge, climax, X

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We had gotten into bondage quite easily, actually.  In a normal conversation one evening we simply began talking about fantasies and Cherokee used a few words about being mastered or controlled, and I asked, with no forethought, if she was interested in bondage or if she had ever tried it.

I remember those first session of bondage, the ways we tantalized each other with notes and whispered messages and phone calls.  She wasn’t very skilled to start with, but by trial and error and by way of looking at bondage pictures, she gradually came to use ropes and straps effectively.

Most of the time we preferred for me to place her under my absolute control, telling her what to wear, how to act, where to go, what to do.  Even when she wasn’t bound, the threat of severe bondage was enough, in our game, to make her comply to my wishes.  Although Cherokee was willing to put me into bondage, it was fairly clear that initially she enjoyed being tied up and controlled more than doing it to me.

But something changed one weekend.  We generally went to my cabin in the woods, an ideal place for bondage because it is truly isolated from the rest of the world.  I had tied her up that Saturday morning, and in the afternoon, it was ‘my turn’.  I agreed willingly, knowing that I enjoyed what she did to me and that she would never do anything too strenuous or that would hurt.

For the first time, she blindfolded me, using an elastic bandage.  The sensation was totally different, and somehow it seemed as though I had given her more control, and that I was powerless to take it back.  She guided me to the bedroom and helped remove my shirt.  Then she ordered me to lie face down on the bed and tied my arms to the corners of the headboard.

With that simple arrangement, I couldn’t stop her from running a fingernail down my back or grazing the backs of my bare legs, and I couldn’t begin to reach the blindfold, even though I could move a great deal.  But she wasn’t done.  She straddled my legs and held them together and began working my shorts down.  when she had them off, she tied my feet to the lower corners of the foot board.

I had always thought that a spread-eagle tie lying face up was the most vulnerable position a person could be in.  but I began to wonder that afternoon as soon as I realized how tightly she had tied my arms and legs to the corners of the bed.  She tested my bonds by teasing me with her fingernails and tongue on my back, my arms, and down my legs.

And then she quit.  Finally, I heard her in the other room getting herself a cup of coffee.  She had left so quietly that with the bandage covering my eyes and ears I couldn’t hear her move about.

It seemed as though she let me lie there for an eternity.  I remember fading in and out.  I was drifting on the edge of consciousness.

And then, with a start, I knew she was back.  Out of nowhere, she had simply dragged a fingernail up between my legs, from bottom to top, straight up between my exposed cheeks.  I was startled, I cried out.  That was all she did.  One touch, and then she was gone again.

That was how it went.  As I later learned, I lay there well over two hours, but at the time I had no concept of the passage of time.  Every now and then, totally by surprise, she would touch me, tease me somehow.  Once she used a feather; once and ice cube.  Between times, the waiting was excruciating, electric with anticipation.

Later Cherokee let me go and I found that I looked at her differently.  No longer could I trust that I would always be the more aggressive one, that she would always stay within predictable bounds in what she would do to me.  Suddenly she was an unknown factor.

The next weekend found us at the cabin again.  We each knew, of course, that we would take turns placing each other in bondage again.  Normally, it took the initiative, but this time as I was reading that morning’s paper and drinking my coffee, she was suddenly behind me with the elastic blindfold, telling me firmly to cooperated and let her put it on.

I was startled by her suddenness and then as the elastic went around my head a sense of helplessness came over me.  When she was finished with the blindfold she took two short straps and tied my arms to the arms of the chair I was sitting in.  Then she quit and sat down in a chair across the table from me and continued with her coffee and reading another section of the paper.

I thought she had done a sloppy job with the straps.  They were about halfway between my wrists and elbows and I would be able to work my arms out easily.  But I couldn’t.  she had made the straps very tight.  What seemed so simple and escapable in fact was secure and very, very frustrating.  I sat there, fully dressed, blindfolded, and unable to do anything except wait.  Her sense of control and my sense of helplessness were growing each moment.

After a while she finished the paper and came over to me.  She unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it open.  Then she unbuckled and unzipped my Levi’s and told me to lift up so she could take them off.  With a little smile, I shook my head.  At least there was one thing I still had control over.  Then she suddenly pinched my nipples and raked her long fingernails across my stomach.  I tried to twist away, to resist, but her fingers and her pinches were everywhere.  Finally, I had to give in and let her pull my pants down.

Rapidly she tied my feet to the chair legs, and my helplessness seemed more and more complete.  I couldn’t stop her from looping a rope around my vitals.  Then, when she tugged the rope lightly, I knew how much control over me she really had.

“You WILL put your arms behind you when I let them go, won’t you?” I was asked.

I hesitated, but the next jerk was a little harder, and I gave up all though to resisting.

She had started with an unexpected blindfold, but each step was orchestrated from then on to put me into her complete control.  With my shirt removed, leaving me completely naked, and now with my arms tied tightly behind me, and with a very effective rope leash, I seemed to have no voice in what was to happen.  Again, I was left alone while she finished another cup of coffee.

When she was ready, she came back to me and began to untie my feet.  This time she didn’t ask me to obey, she expected it.  She told me to stand up, and the slight pull on the leash rope had me complying immediately.  She steered me with the rope to the bedroom and ordered me to lie down in the middle of the bed, on my side.  I felt her strap my knees and them my ankles firmly together.  Then the strap around my ankles was anchored to one corner at the foot of the bed, and the one around my knees to the other corner.

I wanted to protect myself, and since I couldn’t pull my knees up, I bent my torso down.  Cherokee had removed the rope leash, and bending would give me a little safety, or so I wanted to believe at least.  I felt her putting something around my waist and fastening it the back.  And then I felt a rope sliding between my legs.  Later I realized that she ran the rope around the upper bed post in front of me, then around the one up behind my head and down to my hands still tied tightly behind my back.

Suddenly there was a rope pulling into my crotch and on my arms at the same time.  I was being tied to the four corners of the bed just as effective as a spread-eagle, but in an entirely different position.  I tried to shift around, moving my waist closer to the bedpost in front of me to relieve the rope pressure in my crotch and pulling on my arms.

But Cherokee was waiting for me to do just that.  She hadn’t knotted the rope at my wrists yet, and when I gave her more slack, she took it.  When she gave it one last pull, my hips were stretched out in front of me, and my arms and hands were pulled almost painfully up and away from my back behind me.

I realized in the next few seconds that this position left me more exposed than even a spread-eagle.  Cherokee could reach any part of my body, from the soles of my feet to my back, front, neck and face.  Not only that, but the part of me that I had sought to protect was now prominently displayed and becoming more prominent by the moment.  I could not have felt more vulnerable.

Finally, Cherokee’s voice softened.  “Lover boy, you have got yourself in one awful predicament.” And did she ever know what to do about it.

This time she didn’t disappear.  She let her fingers rub sensuously over my body, bringing sensations to my skin that I didn’t know existed.  Her fingers and tongue caressed me everywhere till I thought I was going to explode.  And when her fingers, slick with a lubricant, finally closed over me, kneading and sliding, I did explode, as completely and exquisitely as I ever had.  It had come at the hands and in the embrace of this crazy lady, Cherokee, who knows me so well and who cares enough to play to my wildest inner fantasies, and whom I can trust, at times like these, with all my body and with all my soul.

And later tonight, beware, my dear friend Cherokee, because I have plans for your, too!