by Diana Hunter
“Expansion stretches the body, opening it for exploration.” He tied off the ends, having made a rope bra of sorts. “Shibari is the Japanese art of using these two methods to force the body into some wonderful shapes.”
“Is that what you’re doing now? Shibari?” She tripped over the word a little and John corrected her pronunciation.
“A form of it, yes.” He pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “Wrist cuffs have to go. They’re in the way.”
“Aww, I like these.” Despite her words, she held out each wrist in obedience. He set them on the dresser and chose another, slightly longer hank of the same rope.
“How do you know which one you want?”
“You see the ends? How they’re colored? Blue is twenty-five feet, red is thirty, green means fifty feet. Put your hands behind your back.”
He kept the intonation of his voice practical. Another chapter, another small exposition. Besides which, talking disarmed her, helped her from putting those walls back up that he’d already taken down. That didn’t stop him from starting the tension by giving her nipple a small tweak just to remind her of her purpose. The shiver she gave made it worth it.
“There’s a position called the Reverse Prayer. Not everyone can do it. You put your palms together and raise your arms behind your back, as if in prayer.”
“Do you want me to try it?”
“I’ll let you make this call. I don’t know your body well enough yet to know how flexible you are.”
“I’m in excellent shape.” He heard the grin in her voice and watched her bend her arms upward. The movement forced her breasts into the rope. “Oh my.”
“Very nice.” Before she could move again, he looped the rope through her forearms several times, wrapping it tight enough to prevent her from lowering her arms, but not tight enough to cut off circulation to her hands. As it was, her arms would go to sleep if left in this position too long.
“If you’re constricting me here, is it a safe bet to say you’ll be stretching me down below?”
John gave a final tug, seating the knot. Tucking the few inches of rope left into the tie, he stood back to examine his handiwork. “Would you like to see what you look like?”
“Can I? I’d love to.”
“Be right back.”
While he was gone, Lauren twisted and turned, testing the ropes. Each movement showed her restrictions in a new way. Each one made her pussy open with need. Yeah, she liked this binding idea.
Of course, there was far more to the BDSM lifestyle than just being tied up. Kinky sex alone actually fell pretty close to the vanilla side. What about all the other parts? The Dominance and submission, the power exchange, the Master/slave dynamic? Where did John stand on those? For that matter, where did she?
Sarah willfully admitted to being Phillip’s slave. Beth acknowledged her own dominance in the bedroom, yet conceded Paul was not her slave. Where did she want to be with John? Because at this point, she knew that much. She wanted Big John as a part of her life.
Just then he returned, digital camera in hand. “I don’t have a good set of mirrors to show you the other side of you, but if you’re willing, I’ll take a picture. We can delete it immediately.”
“Go ahead.”
The flash went off, then another. Lauren found them extremely arousing. Not only to be naked and tied up, but photographic evidence? Damn, but she was learning things about herself.
John came around and showed her the picture. She smiled at the image of her hands pointed heavenward behind her back. “Wow. That’s pretty—and incredible.”
“Does it hurt?”
Lauren shook her head. “Stretches my shoulders some, but I suspect the minor discomfort is worth whatever you’re going to do next.”
“I’ll delete these and get started then.”
“Don’t delete them!” She spoke quickly to catch him.
John paused. “Really?”
She blushed. “I’d like a copy, actually. They really are very…sexy.”
John laughed out loud. “Why, Lauren Carr, are you telling me you are an exhibitionist?”
Her head dropped and she sighed. “I think I might be.”
John’s hand came under her chin and tilted her head up. “You are a wonderful, sexy woman who deserves the very best experience I can give you.”
He spoke from the heart. John had dropped the Dom mask, dropped the gentleman mask, dropped every mask and given Lauren a glimpse at the man he truly was. She couldn’t speak. Finally she managed a weak thank you and the spell broke.
John had been unnerved by the energy that passed between them in that moment. He guessed that Lauren was too. John walked behind her and put his palms on his dresser, steadying himself until he regained control. What was that all about?
Determined to complete the tie-up, he picked up a third length of rope, this one coded with a pink end signifying ten feet. Such short lengths were good for what he had in mind. Going back to Lauren, he didn’t dare make eye contact. Taking her nipple and pulling it forward, he might have been a little more forceful than was necessary to judge by the suddenness of her gasp. Not letting it deter him, he gave her nipple a twist before letting it go.
Still not looking at her, he slid the rope under her right breast, bouncing the globe on the soft rope a moment before crossing the ropes and wrapping them around each other. A quick movement and the breast rounded, squeezed tightly by the rope.
Lauren gasped again and John kept wrapping the breast and giving a quick tie to cinch it. Wrap, cinch. Wrap, cinch. The breast turned pink, then red, then a wonderful lavender.
Another ten-foot rope took care of the other breast. In John’s experience no woman had identical breasts. One was always slightly larger than the other. In Lauren’s case, the left took one less turn of the rope. It too swelled and changed color.
Lauren’s breathing became shallow, quicker in tempo. Taking no pity on her, he ran his fingernails over her engorged breasts. She cried out and stepped back, her legs suddenly unsteady. Well, he could take care of that.
Lauren’s head reeled. He changed so quickly. One moment the teacher, the next speaking from the heart, the next the powerful Dom who only saw her body as a medium to sculpt for his pleasure. Her pussy openly gushed her arousal.
He pulled her back toward the bed, but didn’t put her on it. Feeling a little foolish standing there, she watched him put a heavy rope over a large hook hanging from the ceiling. Had that always been there? How could she have not seen it?
Of course, there had been so many changes to the room she shouldn’t be surprised that she hadn’t taken them all in. John worked quickly to set the rope to his needs, but Lauren had time to appreciate again his grace in movement. She wished he’d taken off his shirt. She would’ve loved to see those muscles move as he reached up and knotted the rope in place.
Satisfied, he came back to her. He stood before her and she looked up at him, determined to make eye contact, but when they did, she nearly stepped away.
Determined. Not going to take any flack. Not going to be disobeyed. All those things, she saw in his eyes.
He put her under the hook and tied the rope he’d hung to the ties at her back. Pulling her up onto her toes, she suddenly found herself off balance. The rope caught her, however, and wouldn’t let her fall.
John turned her away from him and again she had to lean into the ropes before she could catch her balance. He caught her foot and brought it up, sliding a loop of rope over her knee and tightening it so she couldn’t put it back down. Finding balance on one foot was harder, but she did it. The breeze came in the window and across her now-spread pussy and she nearly came.
He stood before her, the anger gone from his eyes. Now he held only command. “You’re going to be tempted to give in to it. Don’t. Come only when I tell you.”
“Got it.”
His hand dipped between her legs and Lauren gave up trying to think. She leaned forward without realizing it, her h
ead down and her eyes closing to better concentrate on the wonderful tingles he caused as he fingered her pussy lips, parting them to probe deeper, eventually sliding a single finger inside her.
“You’re not going to come, are you?”
She didn’t want to break the mood by answering, so she only shook her head. No, she didn’t want to come. This place felt so wonderful…just floating here…his fingers working magic.
He stepped closer. The top of her head brushed him and she leaned forward a little more, raising her head to lean her cheek against his shirt. He felt so strong beside her. His free arm encircled her, holding her tightly. Her bound breasts pressed against his chest and she bit her lip to keep herself from coming.
John picked up the tempo, rubbing his fingers harder over her tender skin. The small mewling noises she couldn’t stop became whimpers of desire and turned into moans of need. His occasional touches on her clit made her gasp. The soft, warm place of just a moment ago became a raging torrent and she gave voice to it.
“Please let me come, John. I can’t—”
“Hold it.” His voice, strong and firm, gave her something to hold on to. Gasping, she opened her eyes.
“Ready?”
Keeping such a tight rein on her body, she barely had the ability to nod.
“Come for me then, Lauren. Come for me.”
And she did. His fingers danced between her pussy lips, pressing on her clit, sliding in and out, pushing, poking, prodding. She leaned against him, letting the ropes take all her weight, her pussy wanting his touch as the orgasm coursed through her.
She took a deep breath as her body quieted. John pressed again on her clit and another orgasm flipped her over the edge. If her hands had been free she would’ve held onto him for support. But they weren’t and all she could do was hang there and submit. And when he whispered in her ear, “One more time,” and rubbed her clit again, all she could do was throw her head back and laugh as she climaxed a third time.
Lauren abandoned herself to his care and John felt the pleasure of it all the way down to his cock. He would never understand how people could enjoy quickies when there was so much pleasure to be gotten if one took the time. Everything he did today had been planned in advance. Everything but Lauren’s gifts of her orgasms.
He’d suspected she could experience multiple orgasms when she came without pressure to her clit. This confirmation of his hope only served to prove his point—taking time beforehand moved the experience of sex out of the realm of the mundane.
Stepping back, he grinned at her as he removed his hand from between her legs. Holding up his fingers, he showed her. “Look, you’re so wet they’re wrinkled.” A small towel lay amid the toys on the dresser behind him and he used it to dry them.
She laughed again, still floating on her orgasmic high. “Is this what it means to be fucked silly?”
“This is just a taste of what it means to be fucked silly, my dear.” He ran his nails down along her bound breasts and she gasped.
“Did you just come again?”
She dissolved into giggles.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Shaking his head, he put his thumbs on her nipples and pushed, pulling the ropes forward as he did so. Of course, this put pressure of a different sort on her breasts and she uttered a breathy, “Oh God.”
“That’s four. Shall we try for a few more?”
“Not…possible,” she gasped.
“Is that a challenge?” He massaged her breasts to gauge her reaction.
“No strength left.”
He promptly dropped to his knees and blew gently over her wet pussy. Above him, she cried out. Parting her nether lips, he reached up to pinch her clit. Her juices made it slippery, however, and he found it difficult to catch.
That didn’t seem to matter as her pussy gave forth another spurt of beautiful cream. Lauren giggled and sobbed at the same time. “Oh John…no more. Pity!”
He stood. “I count six. I think you like being tied up more than you let on before.”
For answer, she gave him a dry look and a snort. He laughed out loud. “Let’s get you out of this tie, shall we?”
He undid the knots that held her leg off the floor then let her down off the hook. She stood, patiently watching as he wrapped and put away each rope then came back for the next. In less time than it took to get her into them, she stood naked before him once more. Only the ankle cuffs remained in place. When John knelt to remove those as well, Lauren finally spoke up.
“Do you have to?”
John paused and considered. He looked up at her and finally said, “For now.”
She nodded.
Once even those were gone, John led her to the bed, tossing pillows to her and unfolding the summer comforter. “Climb in,” he instructed. “Under the covers.” He put on his stern look and she obeyed.
“Okay.”
John removed his shirt, taking a moment to hang it on a hanger at the back of his bedroom door. When he kicked off his shoes, Lauren realized he wore no socks. Next came the pants and she sort of wished she were undressing him. That could be sexy as well. She was glad he was a boxer-briefs man. Traditional boxers did nothing to show off a man’s sexy ass.
And then the briefs were gone and she got only a glimpse of the wonderful cock she remembered before he slid under the cover beside her, pulling her close.
“Oh yeah. I like this too,” she murmured.
“I thought you might. I’ve been pretty hard on you today.”
“Yeah, but what a payoff. Hot damn, but that was amazing.” She propped herself up on one elbow to see him better. “And after already having come once? Totally unexpected.”
“Have you come multiple times before?” He hiked himself onto an elbow as well and she blushed.
“Only at my own hand. But even then, not more than twice. Well, there was one time when I managed three, but only that once.”
“And now you’ve experienced six.”
She grinned. “Yeah.”
“So tell me what you think of all this now.”
Lauren lay back down, one hand under her head, the other draped over her stomach as she searched for the words. “In the short form, I think I could really learn to love this. Nah, I already love it.”
“Good to hear. And in the long form?” John brushed a hair that had escaped her ponytail from her face. Lauren sat up a little and pulled the elastic band out entirely to drop it on the floor. She shook her head to free her hair and lay back down, both arms now crossed and resting on her belly.
“In the long form, I’m not sure.” She looked over at him. “What are you expecting of me…in the long form?”
“You mean on the Master/slave continuum.”
She nodded, her heart suddenly in her throat.
He didn’t meet her gaze, instead looking at his hand where he combed his fingers through her now-loose hair. “Personally, I don’t think you’re slave material.”
She swallowed hard. “Are you looking for slave material?”
He shook his head and looked her in the eye. “Not really. Maybe someday. But it isn’t a deal breaker for me.”
“So having someone like my friend Sarah, who’s a total, twenty-four/seven slave to her husband, who allows him to make nearly every decision concerning every aspect of their lives—that’s not what you’re looking for?” Under the light comforter, she twisted her fingers together, unsure whether she felt relief or regret.
“It might be. Someday. It isn’t necessary right now.” He paused and sat up, pulling her up to face him. “Lauren, you are a woman I want to spend time with. Do I need a sub for a partner? Yes. I need someone who not only is willing, but who wants to let me lead, not in all things, but in many. Are you that sub? I think you might be.”
He took her hands and stilled their fidgeting. “I planted a seed in you to see if it would take root. Not only did it sprout, the seed’s grown into a beautiful plant that I just saw blossom. You gave over your freedom, y
our choices, your entire body for me to guide and maneuver for our mutual pleasure. What am I expecting of you? Only that.”
“You make it sound so simple.” She smiled.
“It is simple. We’re two people who like each other very much and are learning more about ourselves as a couple.”
Lauren’s smile deepened then she remembered something he’d said earlier. “And when you said I wasn’t slave material, what did you mean?”
“Only that you’re a strong woman in your own right. I can’t see you giving up that authority twenty-four/seven. You value your autonomy and that’s as it should be.” He bent forward and gave her a small kiss. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll find our spot. Your friend Sarah and her husband might like it at the far end but we might not want to go so far.” A sudden thought occurred to him. “Hey, this Sarah, her husband’s name isn’t Phillip, by any chance?”
Lauren looked surprised. “Yeah, it is. How did you know that?” She shook her head. “The newspapers. I forgot. Their story was everywhere. Beth sent copies to me overseas. That was a terrible thing they went through.”
“Yes, it was, but that’s not how I knew.” At her raised eyebrows, he explained. “Phillip Townshend, Will Bondman and I have been friends since college. Will was my roommate for two years. When we got a suite my junior year, Phillip joined in.”
“Are you telling me you know Sarah’s husband? Are good friends with him?”
“Better than good friends. He was my mentor as a Dom.” John grinned. “And Will is constantly giving me pointers.” A thought occurred to him. “How do you know Sarah?”
“Best friends since high school. Sarah, Beth, me. Inseparable for four years. Well, Beth since kindergarten, Sarah since high school.”
“You weren’t at Sarah and Phillip’s wedding.”
“I was overseas fighting a war, remember?”
He nodded. “And I was just back two weeks.”
A strong breeze blew in the window. The breeze turned into a wind that rattled a chain somewhere in the room and they both grinned.