AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yes, Sir,” I say, staring into his bright green eyes.
“Time for my birdie to fly.” He winks.
I force my body to relax as Alvie guides my body through the needed motions to tie my chest in a perfect chest harness called a Shinju.
I learned very early on in our relationship that Alvie’s special interests are rope and leather, in all contexts. He loves the meticulous nature of working with the materials and knows nearly everything there is to know about them. All of his work revolves around the two, from what he does here on the ranch to, of course, his passion for all things BDSM.
Having his hands on me, carefully layering each strand of rope, and twisting the strands into the right position to both tightly grip my body while remaining comfortable enough not to pinch me anywhere is a mesmerizing process. He’s entirely focused on the moment and how each piece of the puzzle comes together as he secures the rope around my form.
The entire time, his hands never leave my body for more than a moment. Even when he reaches for a hank of rope that sits on the small standing tray beside us, one hand stays on me until he has to unwind the bundle and find the bite, the center.
Every time his hands return to my body for the next tie a shiver overtakes my body.
When the chest harness is done, he moves onto tying a simple pair of cuffs around my wrists, which I hold carefully behind my back.
“You ready for the seated suspension? Or do you want to stop here? Nod to keep going. Shake your head to stop,” he asks carefully, making sure to maintain eye contact with me the whole time.
This is the one time he doesn’t ask me to verbalize every decision and choice I make. We discovered a long time ago that I don’t do well with words when I’m deep into a scene. My body relaxes too much, including my tongue.
This time is no different.
Every worry in my head and the tension in my body have fled. All that’s left is a pure, buzzing, contented sensation.
Alvie helps me rise from my seated position on the bench and holds me tight by the arms until I’m steady on my feet. He checks each of his ties to make sure nothing is too tight, pinches, or has shifted too much for his liking.
“Looks good,” he confirms before attaching the chest tie to a support line he ties to the ring overhead, helping with my own balance as I once more relax into the patterns of rope that adorn my body.
Part of what Alvie loves about rope is the technicality of it. There’s math and engineering involved in every tie and suspension scene. The process is meticulous and methodical in nature, which satisfies his need for routine and control.
It’s why this balances us so well.
While in day-to-day life, my stubbornness leads to playful bickering between us when I push back against his need for control, this is when I let go of that desire. I’m a tool in his chest of toys to be played with.
“Eyes wide open, birdie,” he instructs.
I didn’t even realize my eyes had fluttered closed, but I smile at the sweetness in his reminder. I nod to confirm I heard his instructions; he moves on to the new tie around my hips, a Swiss seat.
“Did you know that the Swiss seat used to be an old-school technique used in climbing?” Alvie shares. “But you can’t use it for suspension alone, otherwise your partner will tip over backward.”
I smile broadly at his reminder. It’s not the first time he’s told me this kind of information, either when we’re alone or in a class. Nor will it be the last.
He loves the stories behind each and every knot and tie. It’s all one web of information that he gets to unfold for anyone interested in listening. And with how his deep voice rumbles as he works, which has my pussy fluttering with need, I very much want to listen.
With the seat tied securely around my hips, Alvie checks in with me again. “How are you feeling?” he asks, tipping my chin up to meet him.
Both of his hands go to rest on my shoulders. “Nod to confirm everything is as it should be, and shake to tell me something is wrong. How do your shoulders feel?”
I nod in confirmation as he goes through each pressure point on my body that his mind has catalogued.
“How does your knee feel.”
I pause, taking stock of how my body feels and checking in on my knee in particular. “Good,” I croak out.
“Excellent. You’re doing so well, birdie,” he says, giving me a brief kiss on the forehead.
The next lengths of rope secure support lines between my hips and the steel ring that will hold all two hundred and sixty pounds of me.
Weightlessness adds to the haze of pleasure I’ve slipped into. Everything in my body has relaxed to a point where my mind’s gone fully blank. Alvie leaves me there, weightless and free, for what feels like an eternity.
