The rest of the morning was different as well.The rest of the morning was different as well. After we had regained our strength, he leashed me again and led me on a walk in the woods. It's odd, being led naked and blindfolded through a forest. Was something about to brush against me? What would it feel like? And he played a game with me, picking up different objects and touching me in different places, while I tried to guess what he was holding. I felt leaves brush my breasts, twigs caress my groin, a thorny branch pass ever so lightly across my stomach. A wrong guess produced nothing; a right answer was rewarded with a kiss or more. I'd been guessing right for a while, and was eager for bigger rewards, when he changed the game. He suddenly stopped, tied my leash to a branch over my head, gave me a quick kiss on the lips, and left, walking noisily through the underbrush. I'd never done anything like that before. As I said, I'm a city person; I bought the farm because I wanted privacy, not because I liked nature. But here I was, bound blindfolded in the woods, not knowing who else or what else might happen by. Your skin becomes very sensitive at a time like that; you feel every little breath of wind, or skittering leaf. A few times, I thought I heard an animal walk nearby, while I held motionless. Was that my captor next to me? Was it a deer? Had I really felt anything at all? I didn't dare move. Then I felt something on my thigh, but it was furry? Or was it? And what large animal would come up to me like that? Had I even felt it? The phantom touches grew more and more frequent, until suddenly they weren't phantom at all, they were him, touching me, rubbing me, kissing me. At long last, he untied the leash, and we made love on the forest floor. Lunch was as usual; afterwards, he conducted me to my cell again. He didn't arouse me first this time, but he did bind my feet, and fasten my neck by a short chain to a ringbolt near the floor. And the friendly pillow was gone as well. All in all less pleas- ant than the day before, but I scarcely noticed; I thought I understood the situation at last. It was a game, of course, but sexual pleasure wasn't the object; it was the means. |