Standing behind her, you untie her wrists.
“Don’t move.”
She obeys. You bring over more rope. You learned from the Nawashi who gave you your katana sword how to tie. You caught on quickly. She’s about to become a masterpiece. You were hoping she’d be in this position. That she’d deserve what is coming.
Create the foundation for the suspension: First, her corset of knots. You wrap the rope around her chest twice and make a bight on her back. That first pull has her let out a little noise. She’s going to enjoy this. You’re going to enjoy this. You wrap the rope around the front again and create a figure eight around her breasts. The rope slowly starts to press her breasts outward. Her nipples are erect. You create another bight behind her and feed the slack through. You take her arms and position wrist to opposite elbow behind her. You loop the rope around, make a simple cuff and then knot off.
Next, you create the hip harness. You have her lie on her back and go into a bridge pose. For this part, you use a different longer rope that hangs down from a large metal ring on the ceiling. This harness, once tied, will lift her up. You work fast, but stop occasionally to caress her thighs and stomach.
She holds her pose so well, even when you put your hand on her cunt to feel how excited she already is. You can see her breath change through the corset. Her stomach changes the pressure of the bights each time she inhales and exhales. Bindings and suspensions create this new pulse. This way of making the body throb.
The knots are finally completed. She lies down flat in front of you. You wait. You wait as long as you can, and then you take out the scarf that’s laced in the hooks of your harness, the one that’s a confetti of color. You blindfold her and kneel behind her head.
You bend forward and kiss her. Your tongues hit in this new angle.
You pinch her nipples, then break the kiss to watch what this does to her body. The tremor that echoes through the ropes. A geometric shock that radiates all the way to her pussy.
You kiss her one more time and then stand up and move towards her feet. Open her knees and lick her cunt. One long line across her river.
You start to raise her up pulling the rope through the ring on the ceiling. When she is three feet off the ground, you anchor the rope to a hook on the wall. When she is secure, you step back to look at her. Her head has fallen back. She is a feather caught at the pinnacle of a gust. At first, she is tense, but she learns not to fight it. Trusting the rope—giving in to the submission—opens a door to ecstasy that few know exists.
The shape of her body is impossible without shibari. You approach her and start to touch the parts of her body not covered by the rope. You drag a finger down the crevice of her breast to her naval and then you spread your hand open. She quakes and the ropes tremble. You remove your hand. You let her regain the trust on the edge of fear. The fear of falling. The fear of where letting go ends.
Her body flexes. It screams tense, before its pores exhale and everything becomes still and beautiful again. You trace a figure-eight on top of the rope around her breasts, then you pinch one of her nipples and watch her forehead crease as she lets out a sigh. You walk around and stand near her head. You kiss her shoulders and bend forward to lean and suck her neck. You kiss her throat gently.
Her head remains back and her breath is still. You walk towards her feet.
She is not corpse-like and levitating on her back but rather, her legs dangle as if hanging off a swing. You touch her knees. Stroke and then lightly scratch her inner thighs. You pull over a chair, turn it around and sit with the back touching your chest. Your face is directly between her legs.
The ropes shake when your mouth hits her cunt. You hold her knees softly. You want her to feel like she’s floating, like the ropes are all that’s holding her up. You start a rhythm. Lingering strokes, then fast flicks with your tongue, which send steady reverberations up her body and through the knots. You continue to eat her out and feel her body quake every time your finish a long stroke: your tongue ending on her clit with a quick flexed flick.
You feel her get tense as she becomes more aroused, more pleased, closer to climax. You know that there’s the fear again emerging alongside a longing to let go, to give into the impossibility of this suspension. You touch her legs reassuringly, rubbing her calves, then lifting her slightly from behind the knees. You let her land and rest on the ropes. Regain that trust in the cradle. She drops gently and hangs limply. You feel her weight sink fully.
She’s deeper now—beyond herself. You can feel yourself get wet and hot. A tension in your abdomen as you continue to provide her with this gift. Her head falls back and she starts to moan. She gets louder, then finally a release. Her whole body shakes. The ropes vibrate electric. Her body steadies itself. You walk towards her head and look down.
She is smiling. You know that behind the blindfold are eyes of devotion. Her time is over. You take out your katana sword. You hold it out in front of you and cut her in half like a magician, then you make a horizontal cut across the ropes hanging from the ceiling and both halves of her body crash to the floor.
Don’t look down. Just re-holster your sword and exhale. You’re disappointed by yourself for, yet again, being petrified of intimacy. As you climb the stairs, you meet Sven on the top step.
“Captain, don’t worry about the body, I’ll take care of it.”
“What’s to drink tonight?” “Dark and Stormies.”
Sven gives you a warm hug before you go upstairs to drink with your fabulous Bears.
THE END.
