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Authors: Elia Winters

Playing Knotty (6 page)

BOOK: Playing Knotty
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“We'll do a basic wrap first. Start with the hands about four or five inches apart and drape the middle of the rope over the wrists. Wrap one end over both wrists in several big loops, approaching the hands. Do the same with the other end of the rope, wrapping up toward the forearms. Be careful that the rope doesn't overlap.” As he spoke, he created a series of loops around her wrists, which still had a four-inch space between them. “Now bring the ends of rope around the slack and cross them at the bottom, like you're tying a package. Wrap each end around the slack rope, starting at the middle and moving toward each wrist in turn.” As he did so, the slack between her wrists dissolved, and he wrapped the loose rope until the ends reached her wrists. The coil between them kept her wrists firmly apart and unable to slide her hands out through the loops. He explained how to tuck the ends underneath and secure them with a simple knot. “Emma, show them your wrists.” Emma faced forward awkwardly and displayed her arms, her heart fluttering. In trying to move her arms, she couldn't find any give in the bonds. Her hands were well and firmly bound in place.

“Now I want you to try. I'll come around and take a look.” He got to his feet, leaving Emma sitting there, her hands tied, feeling a bit helpless and unsure whether she liked that feeling. Then he turned back to her. “You good for a minute, Emma?”

“Sure, sure.” She smiled with a calmness she didn't feel. Ian walked around the room, offering suggestions and pointers, correcting people who weren't quite getting it. He really was a natural at this, a good teacher, casual and yet in command. At last, he returned to sit beside her.

“Go ahead and untie them.” As he spoke, he began undoing the knots on Emma's wrists. “Watch out for rope burn. Rope burn isn't sexy.” When she was free, she rubbed her wrists, more out of reflex than anything else, because her wrists didn't hurt at all.

“Let's try a single-wrist technique using a lark's head knot.” He took her right hand over his leg and began wrapping it, starting with a loop and feeding the slack ends through that loop, pulling against it to tighten. Then he wrapped the rope the other way around and snugged it up again. “You'll want to create reverse tension twice on the wrists, and make sure your lark's head knot ends up on the back of the wrist, not the front. You don't want your bottom to be able to untie it. Go ahead and try.” He looked out at the group, Emma's wrist already wrapped. “Good, good.” Ian nodded as the guests began wrapping each other's wrists.

“Now, another option for single-limb tying is the cat's paw, which isn't even a knot as much as a series of loops.” He held up a length of rope and showed the group how to twist it inward like an M, then slipped both loops over Emma's other wrist and began snugging it up. “Try the other wrist in a cat's paw.” When both wrists were bound individually, the rope hanging loosely, he took a lap around the room to investigate, then returned to Emma.

“I'm sure you can see how easy it would be to secure someone to a stationary object like this. Emma, do you mind?” Ian got to his feet and held out his hand.

Did she mind what? As she got to her feet, ropes trailing down her sides, she eyed the empty supply table behind them. Oh, right. Being secured to a stationary object. “It's fine.” Her mouth had gone dry, and she wanted some of the water he'd put in the fridge.

“I'm going to tie Emma to the table, here.” Ian smiled broadly at her, patting the top of the sturdy table. “That all right with you, Emma?”

Her guests gave some nervous titters of laughter, and Emma did as well. “No problem. How do you want me?”

He turned and looked at the table, thinking for a moment, surveying it from all angles. “Stand here on the short end and bend forward.”

Emma did so, pressing her torso to the table, the position awkward but not uncomfortable. She turned her head to the side, her brown curls tumbling onto the table surface. The wood was cool against her cheek. She was looking at the group sideways, quizzical faces staring down at her.

“Good. Now stretch your arms out and reach for the other side.” He moved around to the end of the table opposite her and took hold of her left arm first, bringing the trailing ropes down to the table leg and fastening them there. A momentary upswell of panic raced through her when she realized how firmly she was being tied, no slack at all in the rope for her to attempt to stand. Then the panic faded, leaving another sensation in its place: arousal. Ian secured her right arm in the same way, tying her flush against the tabletop. She tugged on her wrists, tried to free herself, and couldn't. Ian had done his job well. He walked around beside her, standing so close that she could just about feel him against her hip.

“How does that feel, Emma?” His voice was confident, the voice of a man completely at ease with himself in that precise moment. “Is it uncomfortable?”

“It's secure but not uncomfortable.” She tugged again. “I can't stand up or get away.”

“Depending on your respective heights and the height of your table, this could be an option for penetrative sex.” She heard but didn't see him moving behind her, and then he was pushing against the inside of her knee, making her step her feet apart and line them up with the table legs. When he stood, his hands traced briefly up the inside of her thigh, and she shivered. His hand hesitated when she did so. Had he felt her shiver? “I won't tie her ankles here, but you can see how easily it could be done. These two ties are commonly used for tying someone spread-eagle, which is one of the more common positions for bondage sex.” She heard him step back from her. “If you want, you can come see how I've tied Emma's arms, see the difference in the two ties, then you can try yourself. You can use the chair legs or any of the tables around the room.” He'd moved around near her head and gestured expansively to the room.

Emma stayed in that position while a few people came up to her, looking at the knots on her wrist and on the table; after a moment or two, each couple left to try it themselves. She realized she'd left her legs open, her ankles pressing into the outside of each table leg, and quickly closed them.

As soon as the last couple had looked her over, Ian began untying her hands. “Thanks, Emma.” His voice was calm, but he glanced at her several times, catching her eye, looking uncertain. “That was all right for you? Not too much?”

“It was fine.” She smiled and let him unloop the rope from her wrists. “Very comfortable, actually, considering I was tied up.”

“Good. Comfort is important.” He moved back into teacher mode, walking around to investigate the people who were currently tying their partners to chairs and tables all over the room. There was a lot of laughter in the room, a feeling of conviviality and overall togetherness, and she knew already that the workshop was a success. Initial discomfort long forgotten, the group was having a great time and learning new things. She rubbed her wrists again and looked at Ian. Maybe she was learning new things, too.

When everyone had had the opportunity to try fixed point tying, Ian explained a few modifications that would lead to different levels of penetrative sex, including tying the legs back to the headboard or top corners of the bed, and he showed a few basic hitches for allowing this position with maximum comfort to the bottom. He didn't demonstrate any of those positions on her, probably knowing that they didn't have a bed, and the angles weren't right on the table, or maybe not wanting her to feel too exposed with her legs up over her head. He showed a few other positions in pictures, modifications on what they'd already done, like a doggy-style position that tied both hands together and bound them to the footboard, then tied the legs apart, forcing the bottom down on her shoulders and face. Emma lingered on that picture for a moment, imagining the sensation, before Ian's words brought her out of it.

“The next thing we're going to do is a crab-tie.” Ian held up another picture and showed it around the room, finally turning to where Emma could see it as well. The girl in the picture was lying on her back with her knees bent up to her chest, her wrists bound to the insides of her ankles. Emma swallowed, feeling another rush of arousal, and shifted slightly on the yoga mat. Ian looked at her for a moment before turning back to the group. “You'll need two medium-length pieces of rope for this, and if you want, you can do it right along with me as I tie Emma. Emma, if you wouldn't mind lying on your back with your side to all of us?”

Emma lay back, staring up at the drop ceiling of her workroom, her hands beginning to sweat. She pressed them to her pants to dry them. Then Ian's hands were on her ankle, right where her pants had ridden up, and she couldn't look at him, could only stare up at the ceiling as she felt rope snug up around each ankle and thanked her lucky stars she had thought to shave her legs on a whim this morning, just in case.

Ian began giving instructions for how to wrap the rope, first around the ankles, as he had done, then around the wrists, where to apply reverse tensioning, where to cinch it, but she didn't listen. All she could do was focus on the sensation of her wrists being bound snugly again. She was taking short little breaths that she tried to calm, but when he cinched the first side, her wrist and forearm now firmly bound to her ankle and shin, she nearly started panting. Oh God, the ropes were so tight. They didn't hurt, but they didn't leave her any room to move. She felt Ian sit down in the space between her legs to finish the tie, his hips pressing against her ass. She would not squirm. She would not squirm. She would not, absolutely not, press her hips up against his and imagine this position with substantially less clothing. Her eyes were closed; when had she closed them? It didn't matter. She wanted to sink into this sensation, especially as he pulled the last rope tight, leaving her completely immobile.

“You okay for a minute, Emma?”

Emma opened her eyes, blinking in the suddenly bright light at Ian's face smiling down at her. She nodded and forced a smile in return. Then he left her field of vision, and she could hear him walking around the room, surveying, supervising, offering pointers as he had done before. She closed her eyes again and tried to move, just enough to have the feeling that she couldn't move. The ropes felt smooth and snug against her skin, abrading only a bit as she twisted her hands back and forth. She had apparently become the type of person with a favorite bondage position . . . and it was this one.

“Are you all right?”

Ian's voice was so close that she jumped, her eyes flying open. He was kneeling next to her, leaning over her slightly, looking down into her eyes. “Don't fall asleep on me.” He looked down her bound form, his gaze lingering on her body as if he were imagining her naked, and she would have crossed her arms or covered herself—if she could move. She felt his touch on her hands, then her feet, fingertips gliding over her skin. “No numbness, right?”

“No, I'm . . . fine.” His eyes were dark and deep, and she couldn't look away from them. She could still feel the warmth of his hand on the top of her foot.

He held eye contact longer than was necessary. “This position is more effective when I tie your legs off to the side, like to the table legs. It helps keep them spread so you can't close them on me.” His hand tightened on her foot before he moved it away.

“Oh.” Her mouth formed the word, but she wasn't sure any sound came out. How was she supposed to respond? Why was he even telling her that? She felt shivery and warm at the same time; the press of the hard floor through the thin rubbery mat didn't distract her from the arousal pooling low in her belly. “Maybe you should tell the class that.”

“I already did, while I was walking around. I just thought you might like to know, too.” He rested his hand on her leg again. “You ready to get untied?”

He was asking her, as if she would want to stay bound any longer than was absolutely necessary. “Sure, whatever.” She affected a disinterested tone and tried to shrug but couldn't move her arms. Ian pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and began untying her. Finally free, Emma sat up, a bit too quickly. She got dizzy and pressed a hand to her head, steadying herself.

“Let's take a break.” Ian got to his feet as the other people in the room were getting untied. “I've got water and snacks.”

The group began eating and chatting, the tone of the room light, but Emma felt too shaken up to really engage. She sipped her own water, keeping her hands steady by supreme effort, standing off to the side of the room while everyone schmoozed.

“Hey.”

Ian's voice behind her made her turn. She hadn't heard him approach, and now he was standing so close she could feel his body heat.

“Hey.” She sipped from her water again. It was ridiculous for her to feel nervous next to him. Maybe if she kept telling herself that, she could logic herself out of her emotions. Sure, like that had always worked so well in the past.

“How are you feeling?” He unscrewed the lid on his water and drank half of it, his throat moving as he swallowed mesmerized her with the bob of his Adam's apple. “Will you be able to make it through the second half of class?”

She cocked her head to the side. “Why wouldn't I?”

Leaning close, Ian whispered to her, his cheek brushing hers, “Because you're so turned on right now that you're ready to scream.”

Emma stepped back from him, her face burning with shame and indignation. How dare he? She opened and closed her mouth twice, searching for words, before finally managing, “Excuse me?” Even though she wanted to shout at him, she remembered the others in the room and kept her voice barely above a whisper. The room felt too hot, her clothing too tight, Ian's body too close, pressing all along her side. She wanted to pull away from him and simultaneously to push closer.

BOOK: Playing Knotty
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