“Completely,” I say. The answer comes so naturally to me I let it slip out before my doubt can hold it back. At least with my body, I do trust her.
Just perhaps not with my heart.
“Permission to do whatever I want to you? To make you a better aerialist, of course,” she says, her voice sounding coy.
“Of course.” I give her a smirk.
Pulling out a small strip of black fabric, Tempest blindfolds me. I can feel her fingers graze my back as she unzips my bodysuit. The air is crisp and cool on my naked form, but I don’t feel overly exposed.
If anything, I feel liberated. I’m confident in my body… and confident that Tempest enjoys what she sees of me, just as I do of her.
The blindfold enhances every other sensation. My world narrows to just her—the warmth of her breath against my skin, the softness of her touch. There’s a familiar cadence to the way her body fits with mine, even when I can’t see what’s happening.
She helps me onto the ground, and I sit with my knees up to my chest as she places something on me. It feels firm and restrictive. It’s not soft and pliable like ribbon, but it also doesn’t feel scratchy like rope. She takes her time before she ties the first knot, the fabric caging my chest. It seems to overlap in certain places, but I can’t tell where based on touch alone.
I can feel the gears in my brain turning as I begin to understand what’s happening. Itisrope, but a smoother kind, and I can feel my heartbeat increase with every movement.
Tempest puts one hand on my back, and guides me down onto my stomach, my legs folding behind me. She brings my arms back, pressing my forearms against one another at the base of my spine. There are more knots being tied, and anticipation gathers like heat beneath my skin.
“Are you going to tell me what you’re doing?” I ask.
A beat of silence.
“Tempest, tell me what’s happening.”
“But that would ruin the surprise.”
I don’t like surprises, but I love this strange sensation of my body tied and bound, completely at her will. It’s invigorating. Tempest is in control, able to do whatever she pleases, and I want her to.
Use me, do as she sees fit.
She runs a finger down the curve of my back,towards my ass, then continues tying the ropes until she stands up and moves away from me. There’s the clicking sound of our apparatuses being exchanged, and I wonder what she’s choosing in place of trapeze for this exercise. At first, I thought maybe this was sexy bondage time, but now I’m not so sure what’s happening, and that makes it all the more exciting.
Tempest returns, pulling my legs closer to my back, and I thank my lucky stars I’m flexible. She checks every knot, twice over it seems, and it’s as if I can sense the rig waiting for me.
Gradually, my body lifts, the ground slipping from beneath me until I’m suspended in the air. Bound and blindfolded, I am acutely aware of myself. The curve of my spine and the lift of my chest.
The endless pounding of my heart.
My arms are tied to my back, my legs up and bound behind me. My weight causes the rope to dig into my skin, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s a familiar feeling, similar to how it is when we do straps or silks.
But when we do aerial arts, I am in control. Now, I am at Tempest’s will, and I find myself realizing there’s no place I’d rather be.
She grips my thighs, pulling me back to her. I still can’t see anything, but I can feel her body heat. Something cold presses against my entrance, and all of my muscles shudder.
“What is that?” I ask, nervous and excited with anticipation.
“It’s what I’m going to fuck you with,” she answers, her voice sultry.
I am suddenly a puddle, sparkling andwet.
Tempest pushes inside, slow and deliberate. It stretches me and I feelfull, cared for, and wanted. And everything in between.
I lose myself to the symphony of sensations. The way she smells like citrus and sage, and how her hands grip my hips as she fucks me with the strap, all of it is perfect.
“How’s this, beautiful?” she asks.
I let out a breathy moan. “Never been better.”
