Taylor’s been teasing me with rope a little bit lately.
I’m not sure if it’s been intentional teasing… though knowing him it has been.
The other day he dragged it up from the basement and had me wash it.
Then he sat at his desk and played with it the next couple nights. (Occasionally asking things like “gettin’ twitchy over there, puss?”)
So when he pulled it out again last night I didn’t think much of it. I figure he’s getting comfortable with it, yanno? Practicing small stuff and thinking of things to do with it. Planning, as he tends to do, silently and intently so that when he does decide to use it he has a direction, a rough map in his mind.
I was wrong.
Somehow I ended up in a rope bra sort of thing with a strategic rope wedgie and my hands wrapped firmly behind my back.
I somehow ended up with crazy clamps on my nipples too.
And oddly enough I also ended up slurping dick like a starved beggar not even caring that it had been my plan that I’d get laid later and that obviously wasn’t happening.
And, yanno, strangely I just didn’t care about those silly screwed up plans when I also ended up arched almost off the floor, mindless of the bound arms crushed painfully underneath me while I writhed against that knotted wedgie when he took the clamps off.
There’s just something about rope…
Maybe it’s simply that it’s new to me.
Maybe it’s the sensual slide of it against flesh, flesh that grows more sensitive with each whisper of rope across it.
Maybe it’s the helplessness. The ache.
The firm feeling of being… bound. Physically fucking bound.
The startling knowledge that I can’t bat his hands away or protect myself in any way.
It’s not the bondage itself, per say. I’ve been cuffed with both metal and leather.
It’s the damned rope.
As a whole. All the sensations, emotions and reactions that twine together to make it a whole experience.
Amazing to me how I could be so wholly satisfied, get so fully into the event.
A small, stolen moment on a bland sort of Tuesday night given greatness by some rope and a sexy, determined, dominant man.
Wow.
cool post dearrie!
December 5th, 2007 at 12:37 pmYou have stolen moments and it sounds like i am seeing it as a stolen heart…..thanks for sharing as for now, i live vicariously through you and your posts until i have the chance to serve in that same capacity…
December 5th, 2007 at 2:08 pmI love this… no matter how long we’ve been doing this, there’s always something new & exciting to discover. I’m glad you’re having that excitement of discovery over something, and it sounds like he’s enjoying it too.
I think those stolen moments are reality for us. Not every day can be full of hours in the dungeon (and damnit, why not?), so we sneak in what we can when we can, and enjoy it for the sake of what it is.
xo
December 10th, 2007 at 10:46 amMmmmm, I love rope too. Everything about it, all my master has to do is bring out the rope and I am dripping. Leather is classy but distant, metal cold and uncaring but rope, now rope is a lover of the most intimate variety!
Love your posts, thought I would finally comment on one!
December 13th, 2007 at 4:25 amThanks, guys. I know i’m awful at returning comments but I just had to say it’s so very cool when folks “get” what I say and can relate to it.
I love hearing that.
Love feeling like I”m not talking to air, too. LOL.
So, thank you, for taking the time to comment, to read and to make me feel less like the only one who ever feels certain ways!
December 14th, 2007 at 9:21 am