“Soon.” He kisses my neck. “I’m almost done with the harness.”
He tugs a few more knots tight behind me then checks all the points of contact between the rope and my skin. Not too loose, not too tight, he told me earlier.
“Okay, now I’m going to help you sit down on the ground.”
“Down? I want to go up.”
“Shhhhh. Just trust,” he says as he eases me down.
He attaches my harness to the bar on the ceiling and pulls until the tension of the ropes has me sitting upright. With the rope holding most of my weight, I can fully relax into my bindings.
Shit. This feels good.
He settles in front of me and runs his hands up my thighs. Then his hands are on my face. For a moment I think he’s going to kiss me. Normally my anxiety would start to spike, especially in such a compromised position, but I can’t find the energy to care. In the end, he doesn’t. He only runs his hands across my cheeks, staring into my eyes as if checking in on me non-verbally.
His hands leave my face and immediately go to work on my legs. I watch him intently as he works to bind my legs in the familiar pattern I’ve admired for so long. The pattern I have tattooed on my hip. The sequence of loops and ties he executes so flawlessly is mesmerizing. I find myself falling into a trance as I watch, letting my head dangle, fully relaxed.
This must be what people mean when they talk about ‘flow’ between a rigger and the rope bottom. The more restrained my limbs become, the more I sink into myself, letting go of control and giving it all over to Kass. I feel safe and taken care of.
When he’s finished with the Agura, he attaches another rope from my leg harness to the bar on the ceiling. He checks in with me before tugging on the rope, lifting my lower half into the air. I watch his ink covered muscles as they flex with each pull. The other rope holding up my upper body prevents my hand from falling to the floor as my legs lift higher and higher over my head.
Once I’m fully inverted, just like the woman in the tattoo on my thigh, he secures me in place and checks forany tight spots. When he’s satisfied with my answers that everything feels fine, he gets down on one knee in front of me, his face so close to mine.
His hands caress my dangling head, but I’m so high on ecstasy–the natural kind, not the drug I usually take at parties– that I can barely hear him. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Mhm.” I’m so relaxed, I can’t form words. I feel myself drifting into the nothingness just on the other side of awareness.
I’m not sure how much time passes, but when I open my eyes again he’s several feet away.
“Is that okay if I take some pictures of you on your phone?”
I nod as best as I can.
“You’re just so damn beautiful, I want you to see what you like.”
He snaps a few pictures before setting my phone down and walking back over to me.
Kneeling in front of me once again, he asks, “You ready to come down?”
“I guess so.”
He slowly lowers me down and unties the ropes with just as much care as he did when tying them. He supports my body parts when they become unrestrained and fall limp.
My limbs tingle as they come back to life, blood circulating through them at a normal rate once more. His hands brush against my skin as he undoes his work, and I notice that it’s more sensitive than usual. My senses feel heightened and it’s a head rush just trying to process it all.
When he’s completely done, he holds me in his strong arms and I look down at my body, covered in red rope marksthat will sadly vanish with time. I wish I could tattoo them on me to remember this forever.
He pets my tousled hair. “How was that?”
“Amazing,” I manage to mutter.
“You need a bath. Your body is going to be sore.”
I’ve done a lot of things in my short life, but taking a bath with a man is not one of them. I think about it for a minute, and the thought of sinking into warm water has my body sighing. “Okay. We can take a bath. But we need to shower first. I’m not sitting in a pool of our filth.”
He chuckles with his lips pressed to my hair and kisses my head. “Deal. I am pretty sweaty.”
I run my hand down his arm that I’m just now noticing is a little damp. I didn’t even think about how taxing that must have been forhim.
