The lifestyle I live with my boyfriend is pretty casual; he’s intrigued by the harder elements of BDSM but kink is definitely a “once in a while” type of night. He also has a habit of berating anything I get for my content (lingerie, toys, costumes) and drops the act of hating it as soon as we bust it out in the bedroom for the first time. Rope in particular was one he complained about; he **hated** the orange rope I got for my Velma cosplay. Complained about the texture, how rope was supposed to burn, and that he’d show me what he could do when I got some “real” rope.
Then, after a night of light drinking, he began rummaging around my goodies drawer and came out with my coil of rope. He made no mention of his sudden change of heart as he unraveled it, bitching about the length in his signature sourpuss fashion. I mentioned pulling up a tutorial website, but the look on his face told me I’d made a fool of myself with the suggestion.
From the ankles up he began tying, a slow winding ladder up my calves, over the peak of my knees and up my thighs as my legs slowly straightened out. Once he was satisfied with his warm up, he untied me and started again, tying once at my ankles, once around my knees, then moving up to tie my hands into the warm junction between my thighs. All the while, we made casual conversation.
“I guess you learned a lot in the Navy,” I joked. He smiled up at me, almost condescendingly.
“You think I learned how to tie people up in the Navy sweetheart?” I blushed harder than I had been before; three shots of vodka and suddenly I had a bad case of open mouth insert foot. He tested his work in a few spots with his finger, gauging the hold before he picked me up and flipped me onto my stomach. Unable to do much but perk my ears, I heard my drawer open again and my heart sank as I heard an unmistakable buzz.
He didn’t warn me before he pressed the wand against my pussy but I was already on alert, ready to squirm away on first contact. Normally he’d tease me, maybe chase after me, but something about alcohol flips a switch in him, loosens some inhibition that allows his dominance to come out and play. He pinned me in place with one hand on my lower back, taunting me with lust-laden demands to cum. I did cum, and then again, over and over while I unsuccessfully tried to cover my trembling pussy with my hands.
Finally, out of no sense of mercy but impatience to satisfy his own needs, he untied me and fucked me himself. The night went on to be by far the best sex of my life, but that part in particular stuck with me just for remembering how interesting it was watching him work through his knots, showering him in praise as he immobilized me for his enjoyment. Excited to have a taste of something I craved so frequently that it was easy to forget I craved it entirely. Even though I often fantasize about a 24/7 lifestyle, I do enjoy the fact that I rarely enjoy his true dominance, simply because it gives me something to look forward to.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/gh823z/mf_rope_bunny_trial_version