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An impatient Dom isn’t safe or sane.
What he does to the sub certainly won’t be consensual.
So it’s with quiet contentment that I watch June wiggle beneath my gaze. She doesn’t want to tell me where her bondage stuff is.
“Don’t tell me you’re suddenly shy,” I tease her.
“It’s just that…”
“What is it, June? What’s got you nervous?”
“I’ve never been tied up before,” she blurts out.
“What?” I laugh. “How is that possible, sweetie?”
“I’m always the one doing the tying,” she squeaks.
“So you know about bondage and how it works and how to do it safely. You’ve just never been the submissive partner in rope play. Am I understanding this right?”
“Yes, sir,” she whispers.
“June?”
“Yes?”
“Will you trust me to be your first?”
It’s asking a lot. If you’ve never been tied up before, giving up that control to another person can be completely terrifying. It can be overwhelming and horrifying, and this is why you need to make sure everyone is sober when BDSM happens. A tipsy Dom might not notice the signs that a submissive is struggling, while a tipsy submissive might not have the will or the ability to safeword when necessary.
“I trust you, Ryder,” June says quietly, and something in my heart melts. That last little ice, that last little bit of resolve, is melting away and I don’t think it’s ever going to come back.
Not now.
“Where’s your rope, sweetie?”
“In that basket.” She points to a basket high on a shelf, and I retrieve a length of rope and come back. I position Jean on her knees and begin to carefully bind her. I have her with her arms behind her back, her breasts jutted out.
June looks beautiful, and something tells me I’m going to remember this night for the rest of my life.
She’s silent throughout the entire bondage process. She closes her eyes and her breathing deepens as I work to tie her up. My hands move on their own, methodically tying knots and running the rope over her soft, curvy body.
I realize that tonight is about more than just making love to Ju
ne. Tonight is all about offering myself to her just as she’s offering herself to me. She’s so vulnerable right now as I move around her, tying her up, yet she’s not afraid. She trusts me, and as I work on tying her up, I find myself relaxing because I trust June, too. I trust her more than I’ve ever trusted anyone before.
This is why I know I have to tell her.
It’s a terrible idea.
I could lose my job over it or worse, but I can’t keep lying to her. I can’t keep pretending that I’m just some writer who moved to town to look for ideas. That’s not true. That’s not who I am. No, who I am is so much more and I really, really want June to see that. I want her to get to know the real me. I want her to discover all of my inside jokes and my favorite movies and all of the things I love and enjoy, and I want to find those things out about her, too.
“Perfect,” I murmur as I tie. June whispers something I can’t quite hear, but then I kiss her softly and her eyes flutter open.
“All done?” She asks gently.
“You look lovely,” I tell her, looking at my handiwork. June gives the ropes a careful tug, but she can’t seem to break free. Perfect. She’s exactly where I want her: bound and beautiful.
“I feel…warm,” she says, surprised.
