As we sit there talking I can feel myself becoming more and more
focused on that length of rope I have been absentmindedly let slide
through my fingers. Each fiber of the rope feels as if it is more
pronounced than it as a moment ago, there is a sensation of warming
where the rope caresses my skin, sliding, rough and smooth, gently
abrasive, leaving my hand tingling.
I turn to face FHB, as he is talking, and I have this moment of
disorientation, as I am looking at his sexy frame as a rigger, imagining
what I could do with this rope, did he let me-and that image is for a
moment superimposed my vision of him... I smile wryly, amused, because
while he often lets me practice on him he is NOT a bottom, nor does he
get any glee from rope, in his hands or on his person.
BL says something, and what little focus I have left shifts to him,
the rope still sliding, fibers catching on my skin, yet sliding ever so
soft and wicked... hmm?? What did he say??
I put the rope down beside me and concentrate a little... follow the
conversation, participate.. And I am doing good... Right?? But when bk
says something and I make eye contact I am suddenly very aware that I
have picked the rope back up and continued my tactile junky fix-and
suddenly I very clearly see what this rope should be doing.
This very pretty pink hemp rope that is stroking my hand, sliding
across my forearm and pooling sinfully at my feet should be winding
itself over her skin instead... wrapping around her waist, cinching just
on this side of good... Then down and through her legs, creating a
cradle to lift her buttocks just so... tightening just a bit here, more
there... And one wrist fastened here, elbow there....
And maybe.. yes that purple rope... it just wants to slide up her
abdomen, wrap itself over her rib cage, asymmetrically binding one
breast, this knot right there... this one just off kilter... now cinch
it tight... I can hear that amazing soft squeak she makes when you
startle her in a good way... Yes, this rope can now bring that foot
up... just so.. bind bind... and the leg.. bind bind... more
rope....back to pink, this arm now... it needs to be like this... secure
it.. double column tie... and that foot like this... with purple...
secure it, double column tie...
I can see it, the whole time they are talking.. I can feel my heart
beat slow down, the feel of the rope sliding through my fingers, the
tension, the warmth of her skin... I can hear her sounds, the rasp of
the rope...
I can see it... the finished picture, arm and leg fully suspended,
body partially, the position looking so impossibly uncomfortable but
made peaceful by the rigging... Her form swaying slightly on the ropes,
that glazed look a rope bunny gets that makes me feel... so... damn.
just so damned good.
I stand up abruptly, obviously not in time with conversation, judging
by the startled looks everyone gives me... I shrug.. Socially awkward??
Me?? yup...
I put aside that vision a wee bit, and show BL and FHB the tie we are
here for... I demonstrate on bk, trying not to yank the rope too tight
just to hear that sound, ignoring the seductive song the rope is singing
I do what I am supposed to do, grinning to myself, even as I am
picturing what else this rope can do.
And so we learn the tie we came to learn. We practice the tie we
came to learn. BL ties on bk, FHB ties it on me, the tightening of the
rope on my own skin just adds to the song in my head. The whole time I
am just dancing inside to a different song-being seduced by the rope.
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