The Secret Journey (23 page)

You’re going to give yourself up to me,
honey. You’re going to give me everything. I know it and you know
it, and we both want it, and the proof of that for me is the
reality that you're reading this, and the proof of that for you is
the fact that you’ve got the rope. You knew exactly what it was for
the moment I mentioned it, and the knowledge has been wetting your
cunt ever since. Hasn’t it, you dirty little bondage slut?

You don’t have to answer, honey, we both know
the answer. So just pick up those ropes, feel them, explore the
texture. Wrap them around your wrists and tug. You’re going to be
bound for me today, bound and helpless and completely mine. That
thought sends a thrill through your clit, honey. That thought makes
your pussy wet and your nipples tingle and your breath come short.
Remember your earliest hazy dreams, bad girl dreams that were
secret and steamy for reasons you didn’t quite understand. Remember
how exciting it was to imagine being captured by pirates, tied up
in cops and robbers, caught and held in all sorts of ways. Remember
hot defiance overlying those deeper feelings, being
taken
,
taken past your defences, taken away from yourself. That was the
start, honey. And now, here we are.

There’s an art to erotic rope work, honey,
the Japanese call it shibari and you’re about to experience its
intricacies. Don’t hurry this one, take your time, make sure you do
it right. Time to double-check, make sure the stove is off, make
sure the phone is disconnected, make sure our door is closed and
locked, we don’t want any interruptions, honey. And when we do
start we’re going to start with the basics. This is shibari karada
and the internet is your friend in learning, just make sure you get
the right version, body-bound only. Start with the long rope. Drape
it across your shoulders, the same as a shawl, one end hanging down
over each breast, equal lengths on each side. Gather the two
strands together, like you were going to tie a tie. Now you’ve got
the two ends together, hanging down between your breasts. Hold them
together like one rope, and put in a single-loop knot to sit right
above your pretty tits. You don’t need girl-scout skills here,
honey, just make a loop and pass the free ends through.

Now you should have a loop around your neck
with the free ends hanging free, just like a big, loose necktie.
Simple. Are you’re getting aroused at this? You will. I know you're
anxious honey, anxious for this to go to its natural conclusion,
anxious to feel restrained, immobilized, and mine.

The second knot goes between your breasts, a
third below them, The fourth on your belly button, and the last one
goes right at your clit. Take the free ends, run them between your
legs, up the crack of your ass, up your back and through the loop
at the back of your neck. Snug them up, feel them tighten, feel
that last knot right up between your pussy lips, right where it’s
going to remind you what’s happening. Take one free end, bring it
around beneath your armpit, thread it through the space between the
first two knots. Take it back behind your back and around to the
other side, thread it through the space between the second knot and
the third. Feel how that starts to present your tits. You see how
it’s working now, don’t you honey? We’re lacing you up tight,
tight, tight. Now back around behind again, and around to thread
between the third knot and the fourth. One more time, back around
again and through above the knot at your clit, and tie it there.
You’re half-wrapped now, honey. Do the mirror image on the other
side, top to bottom. Snug the rope tight and tie the ends off, my
tight-bound little slave girl. It’s tighter on your pussy now, that
hard little knot putting your clit in its place. Karada is the rope
dress, and here you’re bound even when you’re free. Try moving,
feel how it tightens, how it restricts your movements, how the rope
controls you with its very presence. You can wear this out beneath
your dress and nobody would ever know. Nobody except you, and
me.

Feel how it makes your cunt wet. Have you
ever felt like this before, honey, bound and free at the very same
time. And it’s going to get better. Take a second length of rope,
twelve feet long, then sit down on the floor, and you’ll feel that
clitoral knot remind you that it's there. Put your ankles together.
Fold the rope double, pass the loop around your ankles and thread
the free ends through it. Snug it tight and start wrapping, around
and around, until you’ve got just two feet left. Then you’re going
to pass the rope down between your calves from in front, and then
up between your feet from behind, wrapping the rope around the
coils around your ankles. Do that once more, then the free ends go
left and right around your ankles and get tied off in front. Snug
but not too tight, honey. Don’t cut off the circulation, that’s a
bad thing. There’s a skill to this, learn it well.

Take the third length of rope and do the same
thing above your knees. How are you feeling now, honey? Restrained.
Vulnerable. Mine.

Fourth rope. You’re sitting on the floor with
your knees drawn up in front of you. Do the same thing at your
wrists that you’ve done with your ankles. Save three feet for the
cross wrapping part, and thread the free ends through the rope at
your knees, anywhere, it doesn’t matter where. Do a few passes
around and around. You won’t be able to tie it off if you’ve done
everything right, you won’t have enough movement in your wrists.
That doesn’t matter honey, because it’s the feeling of restraint
that counts, and that’s what you’re getting from this.

I can do anything to you when you’re like
this, just pick you up and put you in position, to whip you, fuck
you, or simply leave you there, decorative and available. You’re my
tied up little bondage slut now, honey. You’re going to stay this
way for exactly as long as I want you to. So we’ll start out with
an hour. It’s going to get uncomfortable, and it might get boring,
but what’s important, honey is that you’re mine, all mine, more
mine than you have ever been. You’ll feel that, deep inside you.
You’ll be wet by the end of it, aroused in a way you never thought
possible. And when the hour is up you can undo your hands but
nothing else, and you can rub your eager fingers over and under and
around that cruel knot at your clit. I want you to soak it, I want
you to drench the rope with your juice, I want you to climax for
me, to give me your tightly restrained release to prove just how
much you are mine, so mine. It’s going to be awkward for you, and
it’s going to be hot.

And I’m going to be watching, right here in
your mind where we meet. I’m going to be watching and thinking
about how I’m going to fuck you while you’re tied like that. I’m
going to have you and there’s nothing you can do except accept the
possession when my cock pounds deep into your tight, slick pussy.
I’m going to make you suck me, for hours and hours and hours. I’m
going to take you up the ass so hard you’re going to think you’ve
been split in half. I’m going to take you, every way you can be
taken, and you’re going to take it because tied like this you don’t
have a choice. This isn’t about whether you like it or not, honey.
This is about whether I like it. I get to have you, exactly how I
want you, as long as I want you, objectified, reduced to the sum of
your sexual openings, desired but not considered.

And you can struggle if you want, honey. You
can protest, I don’t care. Because I know you, and I know deep down
you love it just as much as I do, you love the surrender, you love
the helpless, hapless exploitation of your body for my pleasure.
And you will come for me too, but not because you like it, not even
because you need it. You will come for me because it turns me on so
much to watch it, and you’re here for my pleasure, bound and
presented. So come for me, come tied up, restrained and helpless
for me. Come for me right now.
Now!

Good girl, such a good girl. You can untie
yourself now, but don’t think this is the end. Remember that first
rope, remember karada? Next time you go out, I want you wearing it
under your dress, to remind you of your place, to remind you that
you’re mine. And from now until forever, every time you wear that
dress, I want karada under it. Because your mine, all mine.

Surf Girl

I
like to dress well.
I have to for work, to present the
proper image, conservative and professional. I like to be
attractive too, in a carefully understated way. I wear a designer
blouse, good shoes, a dress skirt, and my stockings are always
straight. I do attract attention, I’m pretty and I have a nice
figure, but I don’t flaunt it. Flaunting it is cheap, and I’m
anything but cheap. I’m the same about everything. I drive a nice
car but not the flashy one I could buy if I wanted to. I have a
nice house in a desirable neighbourhood by the beach, but it isn’t
some ostentatious trophy home like some of the ones around. I have
a nice boyfriend, and we have nice sex and he treats me like a
princess. I like to surf on the weekends, so it’s good to be by the
water. My life is all sorted out.

The first place I saw the stranger was on the
beach. I was going to paddle my board out to my island and surf
back. It isn’t really my island, but nobody goes there but me, and
it has its own little beach. He was just walking down the sand, and
he was looking at me, in the eye. I looked away, but when I looked
back his gaze was still on mine. I turned away and went into the
water and went out to my island. I don’t like strangers who get too
familiar. He wasn’t bad looking though, and his eyes seemed kind.
Eventually I caught a good wave back and made dinner and he was
gone from my mind.

Or I thought he was. I recognized him the
next time I saw him, two days later. He was walking down the road
while I was watering my garden. I looked up and there he was, his
gaze was already locked on mine. He didn’t look away and I wanted
him to so I just kept my eyes on his. Men can't hold my gaze for
long. But he did.

“Good morning,” I said, because one of us had
to say something. I kept my voice polite and reserved. How dare he
not look away?

“Good morning.” He nodded and went past.

It was two weeks before I saw him again.
Maybe he had to travel for work, maybe our paths just didn’t cross.
In my neighbourhood people like their privacy, we don’t ask about
their business. It had been a stressful two weeks. I’d had to fire
my secretary, which meant dealing with the union, which I hate. I
was planning on surfing the weekend away, and I was waxing my board
in my front yard in my shorts and tee-shirt. It was hot and I’d
brought out a jug of lemonade, just lemons and ice with a hint of
sugar, very refreshing. It was the same as last time, I was
concentrating on my board, and I looked up, and there he was
walking along, his eyes already right there, as if he knew where
mine were going to be when I looked up.

“Good morning,” I said, reserved and polite
again.

“Good morning.” He should have kept walking,
but he stopped, his eyes still locked on mine. They seemed so deep,
like hypnotic pools. I wanted him to keep going but he didn't.

I couldn’t just ignore him. “Would you like
some lemonade?” I asked. Of course he couldn’t accept, I wasn’t
really offering, only being polite.

“I’d like coffee,” he answered. His eyes
didn't waver.

Coffee? I hadn’t offered him coffee. He was
supposed to smile and refuse and keep walking. Didn’t he know the
rules? What could I do? Having offered him something to drink, it
would be impolite to not get him what he wanted. I smiled. “I’ll
just put some on.”

When I turned around our eyes broke contact,
and it was like diving into a cool pool after a warm bath. I felt a
fog lift that I hadn't even realized was there, my mind seemed
clearer when I wasn't looking into his eyes. At the same time, I
missed their inviting warmth. I went inside and he followed. I was
surprised, but I couldn't say anything. I had invited him, sort of,
though I hadn't intended to. It didn't scare me that he came in
despite the somewhat unusual situation. His eyes were kind, it was
just that his gaze was so intense.

"Do you like cream?" I asked, to keep the
conversation moving.

"I do." He was looking at my kitchen table,
which is a good, solid one, an antique built the way they don't
build things anymore. He put his hands on it and pushed, as though
testing it. "I like your table."

"Thank-you." I smiled. "I got it from..."

At that point I looked up, and his eyes were
waiting for mine, right there. I was instantly back in the warm
bath, and I relaxed almost at once, forgetting where I’d gotten my
table from. He was so damn hypnotic!

"I'd like you to bend over, right here," he
said, quite matter-of-factly, patting my table at the end near him
to show me where he wanted me. I was shocked! This was too much. I
didn't even know him. I was going to tell him to leave, but somehow
my lips wouldn't form the words. My throat worked a moment trying
to get them out, and I found myself stepping forward, moving around
the table. He moved back to give me room, never taking his eyes
from mine. Some part of my brain thought I could get away when I
turned around to bend over. Eye contact would be broken and I could
tell him to go without looking at him again, but the wall over my
sink is mirrored, and when I turned around he caught my gaze with
his in the mirror before I could recover myself. I bent over,
exposing my ass. I couldn't believe I was doing this! It was wrong,
against everything I believed in! At the same time, I found myself
breathing faster, my heart pounding. He was quite good looking.

He stepped up behind me and pulled my shorts
down to my knees. His hands were on my thighs, gently urging my
legs apart, until my knees were trapped by my shorts. I couldn't do
anything but submit to him, his eyes still held mine in the mirror.
He ran a finger over my clit and up between my labia. It felt so
good I couldn't repress a small moan, and perhaps I involuntarily
arched my back a bit, pressed back towards him a little. I couldn't
help myself, I was wet. He pressed the now slick finger against the
tight ring of my anus.