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“You said ‘most all of it.’ That implies there was something you didn’t like. What didn’t you like?”
She presses her lips together and looks away from me.
“Oh no.” I drop the last coil of rope and grab her chin. I turn her to face me, looking at her sternly. “None of that. I need to know what you don’t like.”
“When you grabbed my neck,” she says softly, glancing away. “I thought you might choke me. I’ve heard…I’ve heard some people like that.”
“What precisely didn’t you like?” I ask. “Having my hand on your throat or the idea that I might cut off your air?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Can I place my hand on your throat now?”
Her mouth opens and her eyes widen.
“I will not squeeze,” I say definitively. “I swear, you will be able to breathe just fine.”
“Okay,” Kas whispers.
“Is it really okay, or do you think you might hurt my feelings if you say no?”
“Both.”
“Well, that’s honest at least.” I reach over and gently stroke the side of her face with one finger. “Telling me what you like and don’t like will never hurt my feelings. Can I explain something to you?”
“Sure.”
“My primary goal as a rigger is to give you pleasure through rope,” I say. “I want you happy, turned on, and ultimately satisfied by the experience—whatever that might mean to you. Making you happy is what gives me pleasure. Nothing turns me on more than to know I’m exciting someone else. If I don’t know what makes you unhappy, how can I be successful?”
“I guess you can’t.”
“Exactly.” I raise an eyebrow. “So tell me how you really feel.”
“I know I don’t like the idea of being choked. It makes me think of drowning, which you already know I have issues with.”
“Yes, that makes sense when you correlate the two. What do you think of the pressure itself, no cho
king?”
“I don’t know how I feel about just having your hand on my throat.” Kas inhales deeply before looking into my eyes. “I’d be all right trying it to find out for sure if I like it or not.”
“That’s a much better answer.” I stand and grab her hand, pulling her to her feet. “Go stand against the wall.”
Kas walks slowly to the wall and presses her back against it. I stalk toward her, slowly and with purpose, keeping eye contact with her the whole time. I get up close, but not quite touching, lean in, and inhale the scent of her neck. I sense the change in her breathing, and I know her heart is pounding now. Excitement. Anticipation. Probably a little fear.
With my left hand, I grab the back of her neck, then run my fingers deep into her hair. I yank quickly, pulling her head back, and then place my other hand on the top of her chest.
Kas closes her eyes as I run my fingers up and wrap them around her throat. As I promised, I don’t squeeze at all. I only lay my palm against her carotid, feeling the rapid beat of her heart in the artery.
“How does that feel?” I ask softly.
“That’s okay,” she replies.
“Do you like it,” I ask, “or is it just ‘okay’?”
“I…” She shudders. “I like it.”
“Would it be all right if I squeeze just a little bit? I won’t cut off your air—just add a little more pressure to see what you think.”
