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Tareq went back to looking at Nomi.She was positioned so she was “laying” on her side, though she was tilted forward and down.Her body was tipped slightly onto her front, placing her at more of a 45-degree angle to the ground than ninety degrees.
When he’d first lifted her, Julen had her inverted, but left her that way for only a few minutes before using the set of ropes attached to her chest harness to raise her upper body.He said that this position was sustainable for a longer period of time than inverted.
A complex harness of rope passed over her shoulders and chest, banding her body all the way to her natural waist.The ropes squeezed above, below, between, and along the outside of those lovely breasts—per Tareq’s request.Julen had looked outraged at the implication he hadn’t already been planning some good tit bondage.
A second harness passed around Nomi’s hips and thighs.Julen had told him that between the two rope structures, she was essentially wearing a safety harness.Admittedly one she couldn’t undo herself.
Nomi’s lower arms and legs were actually relatively unfettered.Her elbows were bound to her body by four passes of rope that weren’t part of her harness, meaning her arms weren’t taking any of her body weight.She’d actually tucked her fingers under some of the rope on her thighs, so her arms were pressed along her sides.
Her ankles, and thighs just above the knee, had rope cuffs.Long tethers connected all four leg cuffs to the main lower-body support lines.The lead from her upper leg was much shorter, with the result of that leg being higher up, her thighs nicely spread.
Julen had helpfully threaded a metal ring into the front and back of the hip harness, giving Tareq anchor points if he wanted to add to the art.How thoughtful.
Putting aside the issue of her comfort, Tareq grappled with his second urge, which was to use and abuse her utterly helpless body.The dichotomy of those two instincts were not lost on him, but too much self-analysis during a scene didn’t help anyone, so he put it aside.Now that he saw her like this, he was nearly overcome with ideas for using and playing with her.Luckily, he’d had time while Julen was tying and forming the harnesses to plan and prepare.
Tareq wouldn’t leave Nomi, not when she was this helpless, but he’d asked a Dom in the small audience to go get him a few things from the Den, and just as Tareq was getting antsy to touch Nomi the other man returned.
“Here you go, Zine.”
“Thanks.”He peeked into the bag.The toys he’d requested had been taken out of their packages and smelled vaguely of the brand of toy wash the club kept in stock.“Washed too?”
“I’m helpful like that.”The other Dom clapped him on the shoulder.
Tareq thanked him again, then pulled out the blindfold.Setting the bag on the stage, he walked over to Nomi, bending to meet her gaze.Her hair was loose and falling over her face so he tucked it back behind her ear.It wasn’t until he touched her that she opened her eyes though surely she’d heard him walk over.
“How are you doing?”He kept his voice low, not wanting to startle her out of the moment she was having.
“Good, Master Zine.”
He considered that.She’d been calling him ‘Sir’ most of the time.Switching it up could be a sign that she was upset, the equivalent of someone addressing you by first and last name.Which was one step below your parent using all three—or four—names.But he didn’t think that was happening here.
For submissives, switching to a top’s formal title—assuming they didn’t always use it—could be a sign of how deep into their submission they were.
Tareq cupped her cheek.Nomi rested the weight of her head in his hand.Julen had a forehead rest ready to go for her if needed, but Tareq didn’t think that’s what this was about.
“Anything pinching?”
“No, Master Zine.”
“Do you still have feeling in your fingers and toes?”
“Yes, Master Zine.”
“Show me.”
She untucked her fingers and wiggled them in a little wave, then curled her toes.
Tareq stroked her cheek with his thumb.“If you want to just enjoy this, tell me.”
She frowned, turning her head to look up at him.“If you’re bored—”
“No.”He cut her off, not wanting her to wander down that mental path.“I’m worried you’re uncomfortable, but that might be my relative lack of masochism speaking.”
She smiled.“And all this rope and helplessness isn’t making your sadism happy?”
He bent to whisper in her ear.“It’s making me want to do things to you.”
She caught her breath, then released it on a long slow exhale.
