Suspended in midair
Tears streak down my face, wetting the sheets my cheek is pressed into. I’m bound, bound because I begged to be. Hands under my thighs, palms pressed against my quads, rope looping tight around and around my wrist and digging into my hamstrings. My legs spread wide, ankles tied to the bed frame. The gag …
I take a breath and feel the ropes tighten around my chest. The slide of them along my ribs, across my arms, around my waist, over my legs feel like a caress. The blindfold blocks all light, but I feel you so close. The heat of you sinks into my bare skin. I hear you …
No story today. Sorry. I hope that the regular stories and poetry have been pleasing to the eyes and the dangly bits. Here’s something lovely in lieu of a story. I’ve been dabbling in rope play, a new venture for me. One I love. That thing hanging on my bottom is a …