The Sectioning of C
by Abrank
Copyright 2002

Chapter 6:  The Awakening of E

I first saw the handcuffs lying closed in the middle of the flea market table.  The sight awakened, as I now realize, E, my erotic persona.  My throat went dry and I was filled with an absolutely uncontrollable desire to possess them.  This desire swept away my natural feelings of reserve and I lifted my gaze to the unshaven face of the man sitting behind the table.  Seeing that he was watching me, I indicated the handcuffs and said, in a voice thick with emotion, "How much for -- the handcuffs?"  I could barely get the last word out.

"Five dollars," he replied.  I would have given all the money I possessed for those handcuffs, so I fumbled nervously through my pocket book for a $5 note.  As I handed it to him he said, looking me in the eye, "And 25 cents for the tax."  I found a quarter and gave it to him.  He dropped the handcuffs into a wrinkled brown paper bag and handed it to me.  "Be careful," he said as I left.

I walked back to my car filled with an indescribable joy of ownership, and of overpowering eagerness to touch them.  I opened the car door, sat down and reached into the bag to touch the metal.  The feel was electric.  I closed the car door, drew out the handcuffs and held them in my hand.  My vagina had become very wet and I felt like I might have an orgasm right there just holding them.

R, my rational mind, took control for a second and I checked to see if the keys were in the bag.  They were.  I experimented with the cuffs.  They were the American type, and the cuff tightened with a wonderful clicking sound.  When fully tight the cuff would swing right through ready for use again.

I put one on my right wrist and clicked it shut.  My heart started racing with excitement.  I clicked it close about my wrist and felt the wonderful embrace of steel, far more sensual than any gold bracelet.  I wondered if I could put the other cuff on and still be able to release myself.  I carefully placed the open cuff around my left wrist with the keyhole pointing towards my fingers.  Bending my right wrist, I persuaded myself that I would be able to unlock them, so I closed the left cuff with my right hand, and clicked it tight.

My feelings exploded.  I had an instant and major orgasm.  As I tried to pull my hands apart, my whole being gave into the sexual rush.  The strong embrace of the handcuffs, the feeling that I was a helpless prisoner, and the deep thought that I might not be able to release myself, all combined into what had become the emotional climax of my life.

I calmed down.  Experimentally I tried to get the handcuffs off without unlocking them.  There was no way.  This failure excited me again, and I almost had another orgasm.

I decided it was time to leave.  Someone might have seen me playing.  I reached down with both hands for the paper bag, which had fallen to the floor.  Even this excited me, the realization that I could not reach down with one hand but was forced to use both.  I found one of the keys and managed to insert it into the keyhole without much difficulty.  But turning it produced no effect; no click like a normal lock.  I was trapped!  I felt helpless and began to panic.  The feeling of panic triggered another orgasm; almost as intense as the first one.  When the waves had subsided and I had calmed down a little, I tried the key again.  This time the cuff seemed to move.  The key, I realized, merely undid the lock; I had to move my wrist to actually open it.  I removed my left wrist then opened the right cuff.  I removed the cuffs then closed them both, eager to hear the clicking sound again.  I sat and fondled the closed cuffs in awe of their power and their potential for complete control over me.  After a few minutes I reverently put them and the key back into the paper bag. 

The handcuffs lived in that brown wrinkled bag for about a year, until it finally disintegrated with age and use.  Years later I realized that the man who had given it to me had also given me the best advice I ever received.  It was well worth that extra quarter.


The author may be contacted at