Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
B
Fia just left with some lame excuse about meeting someone for drinks. I know damn well she doesn't have any plans tonight, because we had plans to hang out. So, unless she was texting someone and making plans while the three of us were hanging out, she's a liar.
I told her to stay, I wanted her to stay.
The three of us had so much fun together today, and surprisingly, not just in a sexual way.
I mean we did have sex of course, but that was only one of the four hours that Fia spent at Kass's house with us.
The other three hours were spent smoking, playing games, and laughing more than I've laughed in a really long time.
Which is saying a lot because I'm a generally happy person. Cynical as hell, but happy.
On her way out, Fia, mumbled something in my ear that I didn't quite catch.
I think it was something about letting my guard down, which confused me because I was a complete open book today.
When we were playing our question card games, there wasn't a single card I didn't answer honestly.
I have nothing to be ashamed of, so I had nothing to hide.
"What do you want to do now?" Kass says as I walk over to him on the edge of his bed.
“I want you to tie me up.”
“I did. Don’t you remember?”
“No, I mean really tie me up.” I nods her head up, toward the thing on the ceiling.
“Hmmmmmm. You think you’re ready for that now?”
“Yes,” I say with as much confidence as I can muster.
He was right last night. After I thought about it, the thought of being in such a vulnerable position made me nervous, a feeling I’ve only started having around Kass.
But after being tied up by him in gentler ways this weekend, I really do feel ready. “I trust you.”
He stares into my eyes as if assessing my resolve. “Okay.”
“Really?” I try not to sound too excited, but I can’t help it. A rush of adrenaline courses through my body.
“Yeah.” He stands up and walks over to his dresser.
When I was digging through there last night for a shirt, I stumbled across a drawer full of ropes and all sorts of other kinky shit. So, I know he’s serious.
“Strip down to whatever you’re most comfortable in.”
Alright. I strip down till I’m naked.
When he turns around, he rolls his eyes at me. “Figures.”
His hands hold a large hank of jute rope. The sight of this man shirtless in grey sweatpants, holding rope is enough to make me swoon for the first time in my damn life. Fuck, he’s so damn sexy.
“Okay, now I need you to relax.” His tone is more serious now.
He’s shifted from a playful dom to a man who takes his role as a rigger very seriously.
It only makes me trust him more. “This is supposed to be an enjoyable experience, a release from the world. No talking, unless you need to tell me something’s uncomfortable or you want to get out.
Do not hesitate to tell me to stop. Try to just let go of all control and lean into it. ”
“I can do that,” I reassure him, trying to hold the same level of reverence as him. I take in a deep breath and let it out, trying to convince my body to give over control.
He surprises me by bending down and shoving his bed out of the way, so it’s no longer under the bar attached to the ceiling. I thought he had it under there on purpose to cushion my landing if I fall.
He must see the confused look on my face because. “I’m going to put you into an Agura, so I need more vertical space.”
Fuck. My biggest fantasy come true.
He puts on some music and dims the lights, setting the mood.
I smile at the first song that plays. Something about giving up power.
Just another reminder that what’s about to happen requires a level of trust I’ve never had with anyone.
Trust that I’m not even sure I fully have for Kass yet.
But the adrenaline rush I feel right now is likely due to the uncertainty of it all.
It’s enough to make me want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything before.
He drops all but one of the hanks of rope onto the floss next to my feet. He starts by wrapping it around my chest in an X pattern, weaving them through each other with skilled hands, almost like he’s on autopilot.
He runs his fingers between the rope and my skin. “Does that feel okay?”
“Yes.”
He continues down my body, wrapping it around my waist and securing that section to the upper section around my chest. When he’s behind me, he leans down and kisses my neck, making my skin pebble and my body shiver.
With each section he completes, he gives the harness a little tug to test its strength. The motion gently jostles my body, reminding me to relax. As he weaves it around my body, his hands graze my skin with a gentle caress, so at odds with the rough texture of the rope.
Once he’s completed the harness, he grabs another hank of rope.
“This next part can be a little intense. I’m going to tie your arms behind you. Is that okay?”
I nod. “Yes please.”
He takes my wrists and folds my arms behind my back, criss crossing them like butterfly wings.
I can’t see what he’s doing back there, but I can feel the rope weaving in and out as he secures my arms behind me.
I breathe through it, reminding myself that I can get out of this whenever I want.
I glance over at the side table where the safety sheers are only an arm's length away.
He checks in along the way, making sure I can still feel my fingers and that nothing is pinching too tight.
“So, when do I get to be suspended?” I tried to keep my question to myself, but I can’t help myself.
“Soon.” He kisses my neck. “I’m almost done with the harness.”
He tugs a few more knots tight behind me then checks all the points of contact between the rope and my skin. Not too loose, not too tight, he told me earlier.
“Okay, now I’m going to help you sit down on the ground.”
“Down? I want to go up.”
“Shhhhh. Just trust,” he says as he eases me down.
He attaches my harness to the bar on the ceiling and pulls until the tension of the ropes has me sitting upright. With the rope holding most of my weight, I can fully relax into my bindings.
Shit. This feels good.
He settles in front of me and runs his hands up my thighs.
Then his hands are on my face. For a moment I think he’s going to kiss me.
Normally my anxiety would start to spike, especially in such a compromised position, but I can’t find the energy to care.
In the end, he doesn’t. He only runs his hands across my cheeks, staring into my eyes as if checking in on me non-verbally.
His hands leave my face and immediately go to work on my legs.
I watch him intently as he works to bind my legs in the familiar pattern I’ve admired for so long.
The pattern I have tattooed on my hip. The sequence of loops and ties he executes so flawlessly is mesmerizing.
I find myself falling into a trance as I watch, letting my head dangle, fully relaxed.
This must be what people mean when they talk about ‘flow’ between a rigger and the rope bottom. The more restrained my limbs become, the more I sink into myself, letting go of control and giving it all over to Kass. I feel safe and taken care of.
When he’s finished with the Agura, he attaches another rope from my leg harness to the bar on the ceiling.
He checks in with me before tugging on the rope, lifting my lower half into the air.
I watch his ink covered muscles as they flex with each pull.
The other rope holding up my upper body prevents my hand from falling to the floor as my legs lift higher and higher over my head.
Once I’m fully inverted, just like the woman in the tattoo on my thigh, he secures me in place and checks for any tight spots. When he’s satisfied with my answers that everything feels fine, he gets down on one knee in front of me, his face so close to mine.
His hands caress my dangling head, but I’m so high on ecstasy–the natural kind, not the drug I usually take at parties– that I can barely hear him. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Mhm.” I’m so relaxed, I can’t form words. I feel myself drifting into the nothingness just on the other side of awareness.
I’m not sure how much time passes, but when I open my eyes again he’s several feet away.
“Is that okay if I take some pictures of you on your phone?”
I nod as best as I can.
“You’re just so damn beautiful, I want you to see what you like.”
He snaps a few pictures before setting my phone down and walking back over to me.
Kneeling in front of me once again, he asks, “You ready to come down?”
“I guess so.”
He slowly lowers me down and unties the ropes with just as much care as he did when tying them. He supports my body parts when they become unrestrained and fall limp.
My limbs tingle as they come back to life, blood circulating through them at a normal rate once more. His hands brush against my skin as he undoes his work, and I notice that it’s more sensitive than usual. My senses feel heightened and it’s a head rush just trying to process it all.
When he’s completely done, he holds me in his strong arms and I look down at my body, covered in red rope marks that will sadly vanish with time. I wish I could tattoo them on me to remember this forever.
He pets my tousled hair. “How was that?”
“Amazing,” I manage to mutter.
“You need a bath. Your body is going to be sore.”
I’ve done a lot of things in my short life, but taking a bath with a man is not one of them. I think about it for a minute, and the thought of sinking into warm water has my body sighing. “Okay. We can take a bath. But we need to shower first. I’m not sitting in a pool of our filth.”
He chuckles with his lips pressed to my hair and kisses my head. “Deal. I am pretty sweaty.”
I run my hand down his arm that I’m just now noticing is a little damp. I didn’t even think about how taxing that must have been for him.
I sit up and face him, running my hand through his hair. "Yeah, you are pretty gross."