Being on the ropes

Awhile ago, for Sinful Sunday I posted this picture of my clit. It garnered a lot of curiosity about the experience. So, without further ado: Once upon a time...

God I'm wet. He walks in the door, gives me his intense stare, and I can't help but run into his arms. I truly think that for the first time in my life someone owns me. I would never think to hesitate with him. The desire between us burns brighter than a forest fire. The things this man does to my mind are just as wickedly delightful as the things he does to my body.

I'm naked while he is still in his riding gear, the leather of his jacket rubbing against my nipples as I rub myself against him like a cat, leaving my scent, gaining his. He pushes me to my room and opens the drawer that contains one of my favorite things... The rope.

"You need this don't you?"

He knows I do, I've been climbing the walls lately. I need more than just release. I need intensity, I need to find that space in my head where quiet and calm and serenity are found. I hope he leaves bruises.

It's almost a surreal process, getting tied up. I stand next to the bed, proud in my nudity as he wraps yard after yard around my body. The intricate design that he weaves starts at the top. He completely wraps my hair in rope. As he is done he lets the rope fall straight down and it nestles in the center of my ass. This is pure sensuality. As he starts blinding the rest of my body he makes sure to caress a sensitive area, pause for a moment and look into my eyes, his so full of promise. Suddenly he quickly pulls the length of rope through a loop. The rope running, pressed against my skin is painful and startling. He pauses to lick the rosy area created and my nerves go haywire. As the full bindings are coming together on my body diamond patterns begin to emerge. Every part is connected. He spreads my thighs and runs the rope from my torso up through my lovely center back through to my ass. The two ends of the rope that he works with part my labia. He pauses in his kneeling position and I feel the flick of his tongue against clit and my knees are no longer steady. 

The rope firmly bound, he helps me onto the bed as my upper body is immobilized now. I cannot even bend at the waist, it chokes me. My head is held back on my neck as the rope that he bound my hair with is weaved right through the center of the design. My body is held taunt as my hair is then tied to my ankles with my legs bent. To relax a muscle is to pull my own hair.

All I can see is the ceiling from my twisted position, the slow fan blades making lazy shadows that cross the room. I'm already finding it, the center, the place of being. My mind is slowly focusing. I can't see what is going on, I'm effectively blinded by the blank white view above me. I feel his fingers skim my inner thigh. I know that he is doing something with the rope between my thighs but I've no idea what.

A soft whisper against my very inner thigh "You're such a good girl" he practically breaths. Shivers run down my spin and my body's natural reaction suddenly provokes a startling effect. The minute movement of my body caused the rope to tighten. I instantly discover through feeling what he has done. My clit is squeezed between the ropes.

The rope is arranged in such a position that it pulls back my hood, and my exposed clit is rubbed by its twisted texture. The effects of my response cause me to move more and the sensations escalates so quickly it steals my breath. My mind has literally stopped in its processing. I've never felt anything even remotely similar to this. I never knew skin, nerves, my sex, could become so sensitive. 

I can feel his gaze, his fascination. "Would you like to see it?"

I can talk... I have a voice. Words... I know words, I need one. Oh, God I just took a deep breath, the ropes are taunt again. Oh God. What? Oh, yes, yes.

"Yes"

He grabs my camera and takes a picture. He comes around to my head and I see him for the first time in what feels like ages but feels like nothing. Time has no meaning. All I can do is stare at the picture in front of my eyes. I can't, I don't, I just, I don't know what I'm seeing. The world is a haze and all I can feel is my muscles, slightly uncomfortable, the pull of the rope against my skin everywhere... My clit.

There is no way I am going to be able to comprehend the picture in front of me, but something else has caught my eye. My lover is naked, his throbbing excitement at seeing me at his mercy and his pleasure is deliciously evident right in front of my face. He knows me, knows what I will do. I try to shift to get him in my mouth and my hair is yanked firmly by my ankles and the strongest sensations yet are jolted through my trapped and swollen clit.

Mercy granted, he moves to my head which is slightly off the bed so I can have him. I'm lying on my back and he admires the way he can see the shape of him in my throat as he pushes farther in my mouth. The thrust of his hips is driving me crazy and I don't want to be teased, I want all of him, I want to swallow him, consume him. He runs his hands over my body. He can always tell when I'm finding zen, when I start to no longer notice the pain, the ache. He always distracts me from that, so suddenly those sensations come back, more intense now. 

It is this process that allows him to get me so deep into subspace. I didn't give him ownership of me, he took it through his mastery. I have to be the luckiest girl in the world. Not that I can think of that at this point, my attention is captured by my neck is a mild, annoying cramp. I move.

Oh yes, that's right, there's rope currently caging the most sensitive part of my body in a strong grip. He notices my attention being sharply focused suddenly. He moves away from my view and I strain to hear him moving around the bed. He comes to my parted thighs and the desire is so very very strong to have him inside me. Finally, filled.

"Oh, I'm not going to fuck you. Did you think I would?"

...wh-? There's a flick, a gentle thud against my bound clit then a soft rub up and down. I can feel his precum. He's rubbing that most desired part of him against me. Teasing, tantalizing. I've never felt anything like this. This is not the same body I have been in whenever we have sex. I have NEVER had this body, this can't be real. I haven't taken drugs to invoke these feelings but yet I am intoxicated. He is my drug.

He continues to tap on my oversensitive clit and I come quickly. Oh God. Intense. Every nerve in my body is taunt and singing hosanna to his name. The tensing of my muscles in orgasm causes that lovely magical rope to tighten and continue my pleasure. I don't think I can take this much longer, I am going to die of the intensity of release and sensitivity.

A final spasm of my body and the rope is ripped away from my sensitive bud in a final crescendo of feeling from the force of my movement.

Wilted. I lay in a heap. He helps me from the bed and I am unsteady on my feet. Hours, minutes, days, eternity? I've no idea of the passage of time. He begins to undo my bindings, starting from the bottom. I mechanically lift a leg here, move a foot there to ease the removal of my bindings. Once the lengths of rope are mostly on the ground the only thing left is my hair.

He lays me down as a tired kitten, sated, beyond this world and in my own. He takes the end of my hair binding and winds its from my headboard to tie to my footboard so my hair is pulled with firm tension. I dose off in this position. I can't imagine anything feeling this languid, this comfortable this safe and protected. He leaves me there as he organizes and stores my loving binds. He brushes a stray tendril from my brow and kisses me . He undoes my hair at last and tucks me in. My last sight before the oblivion of the deepest sleep is of him blowing out the candle, leaving the room in quiet darkness.