Chapter 21
JAMISON
Dori asking me what’s wrong has my stomach twisting. She can’t wait to become my wife, and yet her left finger remains bare.
No wonder she’s doubting us. She hasn’t come right out and said it, but I know her well enough to know she’s hurt. The problem is the ring I’m designing is taking longer than I expected.
She probably thinks I didn’t mean it when I asked her to marry me. This exercise will help with rectifying that.
I lift the scissors and show them to her. “I’m going to cut your clothes off.”
Her cheeks are red, and her eyes are wild with trepidation. I know this is uncharted territory for her, so her slight shiver isn’t shocking.
“Temptress, you’re safe.”
“Red.”
I stop. “Do you want me to untie you?”
She swallows. “No, but when I was abducted, they cut my clothes off. Can you take my pajamas off in a different way?”
My heart shrinks. “You never told me that. ”
“It hasn’t come up, but… I want to experience this with you, Jami. Can you rip them off instead?”
I assess her pajamas and try to come up with a solution. “If I snip the straps at the top and make a little cut in the material I could. Would that be okay?”
She glances at her chest. “Yes. That would be okay but hurry.”
“Are you sure this isn’t too much? This should be pleasurable.”
She stares into my eyes. “It is. I promise I’m good. Just get that part over with quickly.”
I nod and rush to clip her straps and slice through hem of the material. Once I’ve cut her top enough that I can rip it off, I place the scissors next to my thigh.
I fist her top and tear it into shreds. Her perfect tits poke up at me. Her stomach muscles flex as I trail kisses of reassurance up her center crease.
I lick and nip over her breast and to the space behind her ear. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Her breath is more labored when she says, “I don’t know what to say.”
“Share with me how I could do a better job satisfying you.” I plant kisses down her body until I get to the waistband of her bottoms.
Grabbing the shears again, I rush and cut the hem at the top. “Are you still okay?”
“Yes. Green.”
“Good.” I place the scissors down and tear the material.
She tenses at the first sound of her clothes ripping, then she settles. “I want to hear about your day when you get home. I want you to help make dinner while we discuss your projects and communicate like we always have.”
“Done. I can do that.” I brush my lips over her sensitive bud as I tear her pants off, leaving her naked and bound in the center of my bed .
I drink in the woman I adore, relinquishing all her power over to me. It’s the ultimate form of trust. My dick twitches at the sight of her.
She wiggles a little. “Now what?”
I pick up the wax-coated black and red ropes and show them to her. “I’m going to work these around you. There will be times you’ll feel pressure, and if it doesn’t feel right or if it’s too tight, tell me. I don’t want you losing sensation.”
“Okay, but how will I know if it’s not how it’s supposed to be?”
“Good question. You’ll know because if for any reason you don’t like it, it’s not right. I’ll be checking in on you, but the second something feels wrong, use your safe word, and I’ll release it. The key here is to push past your boundaries, most of which are mental.”
“Why?”
“To show you how much strength you have and how much control I’m giving you.
” I take the ropes and start the process.
“This first time will be a starter session. We’re creating a scene together.
I just want to use this time to connect intimately with you through conversation and trust as you explore a new side to yourself. ”
She studies my movements as her pale skin invites me in with the ropes. “Why do people do this?”
“So they can get out of their heads and stay present in their bodies while bonding with their partner through this type of art. It’s sexually gratifying.
” I lift her shoulders slightly and pass the first row of rope under her, then I lay her back down.
“I’m not going to go around your neck or design any knots on your backside this time. ”
“Okay.”
“Are you comfortable?”
“Yes.”
I tighten the cords around her chest, under her breasts. “The way I tie these around you will allow for different pressures to build in certain parts of your body. You can’t achieve this kind of sensation with your hands alone.”
I lick and suck on her breasts, bringing her awareness to them. I lift her shoulders again, then take another few passes of the rope around her so the crisscross harness design holds her breasts.
The pattern is tight and squeezes them so they protrude out. The sight makes me grow harder.
“You’re gorgeous and doing great.” My chest warms.
Her cheeks turn red as she smiles up at me. I brush my fingertips over her nipples to allow her to feel the different sensation caused by the tight ropes.
She raises her head and peers down at them. “Wow. I’m really sensitive.”
“Too much so?”
Her heated gaze comes to mine. “No. I like it.”
She’s irresistible, and I want her now, but completing this process will be mind blowing, so I tame my desire. It’s one of the downfalls of this type of play, or a perk, depending on how I look at it.
On one hand, I want to bury myself in her. On the other hand, I want to draw it out and bask in the excitement of it.
Her face is flush, and her skin is pink near where she’s bound. “What is this art called?”
“Shibari. It’s a form of Japanese bondage.” I go about hitching and knotting the rope in intricate patterns down her stomach, lifting her off the mattress a little as I drag the bindings underneath her.
I’m careful so I don’t cause rope burns. She’s going to have marks no matter what, but I’m doing my best to protect her from undue pain.
I plant kisses around her belly button and her protruding hip bones to give her reassurance. She twitches when I drag my lips to the space about two inches above her clit.
She quietly laughs. “That tickles. ”
I work the rope through my fingers and hands, looping the rope together and designing a pattern across her stomach. The process takes a long time when creating a more extravagant scene. Since this is an introduction session, I’m keeping it relatively basic, yet still beautiful.
She studies me as I do. “When did you discover this?”
“When I moved here the first time.” I stare into her eyes to make sure she’s doing okay. “You’re absolutely beautiful tied up like this.”
Her green eyes shine back at me. “I like it. I feel a little different. Is that normal?”
“Very. Some people swear they’re floating.” I dip my head to the mints. “If your mouth gets dry, I have mints for you to suck on.”
“Oh, that’s what those are for.” She peeks off to my side. “What’s the candle for?”
“Ambiance. I thought it would be more romantic and put you at ease. But I forgot to light it because I was excited to get started.” I lift the candle and show it to her. “Would you like some romance to go with your restraints?”
She laughs. “No, but thanks for thinking of me.”
I place it down and continue my work. “If you change your mind, just ask. This experience is all for you.”
“What attracted you to this?” She jerks and twitches when my knuckles brush against her clit as I secure the rope high on her thigh.
“Are you still doing okay?”
“Yes. Green. I’m still green. Your touch was intense.”
“That’s because the blood is flowing through those areas differently than you’re used to.” I run the rope across her pubic bone and wind it down her other leg.
We continue to discuss the art form as she relaxes more into the process. It takes a while, but she assures me she’s doing well and wants me to keep going.
As I make art around her body with different knots, I kiss her all over and tease her with light touches in her most sensitive places.
When I know she’s settled, I dive into more intense topics. This experience has turned me on, but I need to ease her into it and make sure she’s safe and comfortable.
“Do you like the way I touch you, temptress?”
“Yes.”
“Is there anything you want from me that I don’t do?” I wind the rope around her ankle.
“I like when you praise me.”
“Do you want me to do it more often?” I bring her leg out and tie the bondage to the bed frame.
“No.” She presses her head into the pillow and stares at the ceiling, seeming to contemplate something. “You do it at the right moments.”
“What’s with the hesitation?”
She pulls in a breath, and her submissive gaze finds my dominating one. “I sometimes feel wrong that I like it so much.”
“Why?”
“I feel…like I shouldn’t like to be called a good girl.”
Here’s the vulnerability Shibari pulls out in a person if it’s done correctly. Trust takes center stage. My chest balloons with pride at her bravery.
“What’s wrong with being a good girl?” I tie knots and hitch the ropes along her other leg.
“Isn’t that something a parent would say to their child?”
I snap my gaze to hers. She’s red, and her face is bunched together.
“Dori, telling someone they’re a good girl doesn’t have to be connected to a parent/child dynamic. If that’s a kink of someone's, it can be, but usually that term is a way for a dominant to express how pleased he is with his submissive.”
Her body relaxes with my explanation. “Is a dominant always a male or the more masculine one of the partnership? ”
“No. A dominant is established by the people involved. It can be either sex, and there can be more than one submissive. This way of life is open for people to explore what they want.”
I take the last of the rope and cuff her other leg to the frame of the bed. She lies before me, exposed and open for me.
Her hands are above her head, tied in silk to lessen the chance of leaving marks on her wrists. Ropes line her body in delicate and intricate patterns, squeezing and tightening in various places along her porcelain skin.