by Shay Savage
“It didn’t,” I reply quickly.
Cree shifts a bit and grabs the back of my head again, pulling me back to look him in the face.
“Remember what I said about honesty?”
“Yes,” I mumble.
“It’s important with anyone but especially when it comes to something like this. You have to trust me to keep you safe, but I also have to trust you to always tell me the truth. It goes both ways.”
I nod as much as his grip will allow, and he releases my hair.
“I was scared,” I say, “but only for a moment. Maybe shocked is a better way of describing it.”
“But scared, too.”
“Yes, I was.” I sigh. “But as soon as you said something, I wasn’t afraid anymore. I didn’t want you to stop.”
“So, you did like it?”
“Yes.” This time I nod with vigor. “Very much so.”
“I’m glad.” He presses my head back to his shoulder. “I enjoyed that, too.”
“Then I’m glad, too.”
He chuckles and goes back to alternating between rubbing the rope marks on my arms and legs and rocking me like a child. I melt into his embrace, wondering how I could have ever felt that he might have harmed me.
I wish I hadn’t been afraid, even for a moment. I wish we would have continued. If I’m being perfectly honest with myself, I wish he had gone ahead and fucked me.
Did he really want to?
He does this a lot, or so he’s said. He says people come up to him and ask to be tied up. I wonder how often that actually happens and if he usually has sex with those he’s tied up. He also said he’s tied men and that he’s not gay, so I can only assume those encounters aren’t sexual.
Maybe this wasn’t really sexual for him at all. Maybe this was all part of the game he usually plays. Isn’t that how he said it before? People he plays with. Not in a relationship, not having sex—he just plays.
Maybe that’s all this was for him.
It wasn’t just playing though—not for me. That had to have been the most intimate encounter I’ve ever had with anyone, including the one man I’ve actually had sex with. Both of us had been fumbling virgins, and I didn’t get a lot out of it.
Cree is clearly no virgin.
I wonder what it would be like to have sex with someone who obviously knows exactly what they’re doing. The light touches, the teasing, the dirty talk—all of that has left me with rather damp panties and a still throbbing clit.
We haven’t even kissed.
Maybe that’s a good place to start. I glance over my shoulder and stare at his lips.
He said rope was intimate, and he wasn’t lying about that in the least, but I don’t even know if he wants it to be sexual with me. He was hard, like he said, but I’m pre-med, and I know what automatic responses are. Just because he had an erection doesn’t mean he wants to use it on me. If this was all just an act—playing—he might not want me in that way at all.
This was all about making me feel less anxious, and he definitely did. Even now that I’m thinking about the reason we started this in the first place, I’m not worried about the water below. I’m only focused on whether or not he wants to take this any further.
I glance at his lips again as I lick my own, imagining what his mouth would feel like on mine. At some point, I am going to have to take the chance and just ask to kiss him, no matter how frightening it might be. Worst case, he says no.
And that would be bad. Very, very bad. It’s one thing to realize your crush doesn’t know you exist, but it’s a completely different thing to be rejected outright. I’m not sure I could handle that, not after what he just made me feel.
I can count on my fingers the number of times I’ve seen Cree on campus over the past three years. We obviously don’t share the same classes or schedule. If I don’t ask now, I may never have this opportunity again.
I don’t want this to be over! Not yet!
I take a deep breath and look from his lips to his eyes.
Chapter 7—Cree
“Cree?” Kas turns her head to look over her shoulder, putting us nearly nose to nose.
“Yes?”
“Can I kiss you?”
My dick is instantly hard, and I wonder if she can feel it where she’s sitting on my lap. Very few things are a bigger turn on for me than a sub asking to do something sexual, kissing included.
“Sure.”
I keep my eyes on her, not moving. She was brave enough to ask, but will she be brave enough to go through with it? She hesitates a moment but then leans her head forward until our lips meet.
Closing my eyes, I let her lead. It’s a soft, warm exchange that doesn’t last nearly long enough.
Kas is smiling when I open my eyes, and I smile back at her. I hope my expression doesn’t convey the burning need I have to wrap her back up in jute, hold her down, and ram her with my cock until she’s begging me to come in her.
Again, I remind myself that this is all about keeping her mind off the water below us and the very real danger we are in if no one comes looking for us. In that, I believe I have succeeded. Kas is completely focused on me and on how she felt being tied up and not on the sloshing water or the rain that continues to pound the roof of the century-old building.
In fact, she’s completely relaxed in my arms, and I feel good about that. She’d been so emotional at the end, and it had worried me. It isn’t the first time I’ve had someone burst into tears while in rope. I wasn’t kidding about how intense and emotional it can be. I also wasn’t sure if I had taken everything too far or not, and I’m still not sure I can trust her to be completely honest.
Kas is not used to this kind of blunt communication. That much is clear, and I need her to be. As much as I would like to throw her down and fuck her properly, I’m not sure she’ll tell me to stop when she should.
I like it rough. More precisely, I like to give it rough. More than once, I’ve had a partner tell me to slow down or to stop. I always felt shitty afterward, and it ultimately ruined whatever relationship might have been budding before then. I don’t want that to happen here.
I can go slow. I can be gentle. Right now, I’d give her whatever the hell she wanted just to get inside of her, but I have to be able to trust her first. If she doesn’t tell me when I do something she doesn’t like, I could hurt her, and that would destroy me.
I like Kas, as odd as that sounds, given the circumstances. I also know enough about psychology to realize a dangerous situation can often lead to intense emotions that wouldn’t have occurred over a cup of coffee and that those feelings may fade quickly once the danger has passed.
Ultimately, I don’t want her to regret what just happened. I don’t want her to regret trying rope or letting me undress her down to her panties or letting me touch her the way I did. I don’t want her to regret kissing me or letting me hold her like this. On a completely self-centered level, I want her to enjoy her time because it’s with me. For her sake alone, if she did truly enjoy rope the way I think she did, I want her to be able to experience it with someone else as well, even if it’s not something she wants to continue with me.
Fuck that. I want her. I want to be the one tying her.
“Wow.” I shake my head a little, surprised by my own thoughts. I’m not usually a possessive person, but if I’m being honest, I don’t like the idea of some other rigger getting his ropes around her. I want it to be me. I want to tie her again, and I also want her to ask for more.
“Wow what?” Kas asks.
“I’m just having some rare feelings.”
“Rare?”
“Honesty, yes?” I tilt my head to gaze down at her.
“That’s what you keep saying.”
“I guess it’s my turn, then.” I release her from my embrace, and she crawls off my lap to sit on the towels, facing me. “First, put your shirt back on.”
I cannot possibly have a sane conversation with her tits out like that. Having her in my
lap is one thing—I was focused on her aftercare while she was mostly covered by my arms—but I can’t talk to her when she’s right in front of me and practically naked.
Kas pulls her shirt over her head, and I yank my jeans back on. We sit facing each other again, and I try to come up with the perfect words to entice her, not scare her. She has nowhere to go, and the last thing I want is for her to feel trapped.
We are trapped.
I run my hands over my face and collect myself before speaking.
“I know this is totally new for you,” I say, “so I feel like I need to tread lightly.”
“It’s all right.” She glances away, lowering her eyes. She won’t look at me, and I know I’ve hurt her. The one thing I didn’t want to do, I just did.
She thinks I’m going to reject her.
“Don’t look sad,” I say as I reach out and take her hand. I stroke the pad of her thumb slowly. “Kas, I’ve had a lot of people in rope. I’ve also introduced people to rope who have never tried it before. I don’t usually want to immediately and simultaneously tie them up again, get naked and have sex with them, and take them out for dinner.”
“What?” Her eyes widen.
“What I’m saying so ineloquently is that I rather enjoyed that more than I usually do. I’d definitely like to tie you up again, and I really want to kiss you again, and then I’d like to take it a whole lot further.”
“Oh!” Kas sits up straighter, blushes, and looks away from me.
“Is that something you would consider?” I ask.
“Which part?” she asks quietly.
“Any of it.” I laugh. “Really, at this point, I just want to stay close to you. If you’re interested in any of the rest of it, I’d love to know. It would give me a better idea about how I should proceed. I’m not trying to push you. You aren’t obligated to do anything with me, and if you say you’re not interested, that’s okay. I’ll get over it. I just want to be really clear that I’m up for a lot more if you are as well.”
Kas stares down at her hand in mine. I can’t read her face, and it’s driving me crazy. I put it all out there, and I know I’m leaving myself open to be hurt, but I have to say what I want if I ever expect to get it.
“I guess it’s my turn to say ‘wow.’” Kas chuckles before placing her other hand on top of mine. “Yes, Cree, I’d like more, too.”
“All of it?” I grin. “Even dinner?”
“Could you take me to a nice restaurant right now?” Kas glances over to the railing for the first time since I started tying her.
“I would love to. How about Chez Credence? We’ve got a lovely selection of protein bars for you today. The chef’s special is almond butter and banana.”
Kas laughs, and I grab a couple of protein bars and a bottle of water from my backpack.
“So, after we eat, do you want to…?” Kas’s voice trails off, and she blushes again.
“Yeah, I do. But first things first.”
“What comes first?”
“First, we are going to talk,” I tell her. “After that, I am going to kiss you. If you still want to take it further, you can decide then.”
“What are we going to talk about?”
“A lot of things,” I say. I quickly finish up the protein bar and shove the wrapper in my backpack. I take a deep breath, knowing the question I need to ask but not wanting to at the same time. “I’d like to ask you something very personal first though. It’s just something I need to know.”
“What’s that?”
“I need to know if you have any…triggers.”
“Triggers?” Kas narrows her eyes.
I take her confusion as a good sign and feel a little better about pressing.
“I just want to make sure you don’t have any, well, any sexual abuse in your history. If you do, I won’t ask you about it. It just changes how I proceed.”
“Oh! That kind of trigger. No, I don’t. Nothing like that.”
“Good.” I let out a sigh of relief. “I know it’s common, and I just don’t want to be the guy who’s pushing a button you don’t want pushed, you know?”
“Yeah, I get it. Is that all you wanted to ask?”
“Far from it.” I grin at her. I reach over and grab a strand of rope, quickly twisting it back and forth with my hands until it’s neatly coiled.
“Okay, then. Shoot.”
“I want to know how you felt about being tied up,” I say, making a knot around the coiled rope before putting it to the side and grabbing another. “I also want to know what you have tried sexually and what you think you might like to try.”
“Oh.” She looks down at the protein bar in her hands. “Okay.”
“There’s no reason to feel embarrassed,” I say. “I know we’re all very repressed around here, but it’s much better to get it out in the open. I swear, nothing you can possibly say is going to shock me.”
“I think it’s more likely to bore you,” she mumbles.
“I guess you haven’t tried a lot?”
“Not a lot, no. What I did try was…well, let’s just say this has already been better and leave it at that.”
“I’d rather you be completely open with me. I know it isn’t easy to talk about, so maybe we should just start with talking about how you felt about your first rope experience.”
“I really liked it.”
“Tell me what you liked about it,” I say.
“Most all of it.”
“Specifics. What was the very first thing you remember enjoying?”
“I liked it when you, uh…” She stops, giggling.
“What?”
“When you ran your nose over my neck.” She giggles again. “It was like you were smelling me.”
I press my lips together, knowing exactly what she means. It’s a completely intentional move and really does seem to drive women crazy. I debate telling her there is an actual term for it but decide that might ruin the magic. Instead, I pick up the last piece of rope that needs to be coiled up.
“You said ‘most all of it.’ That implies there was something you didn’t like. What didn’t you like?”
She presses her lips together and looks away from me.
“Oh no.” I drop the last coil of rope and grab her chin. I turn her to face me, looking at her sternly. “None of that. I need to know what you don’t like.”
“When you grabbed my neck,” she says softly, glancing away. “I thought you might choke me. I’ve heard…I’ve heard some people like that.”
“What precisely didn’t you like?” I ask. “Having my hand on your throat or the idea that I might cut off your air?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Can I place my hand on your throat now?”
Her mouth opens and her eyes widen.
“I will not squeeze,” I say definitively. “I swear, you will be able to breathe just fine.”
“Okay,” Kas whispers.
“Is it really okay, or do you think you might hurt my feelings if you say no?”
“Both.”
“Well, that’s honest at least.” I reach over and gently stroke the side of her face with one finger. “Telling me what you like and don’t like will never hurt my feelings. Can I explain something to you?”
“Sure.”
“My primary goal as a rigger is to give you pleasure through rope,” I say. “I want you happy, turned on, and ultimately satisfied by the experience—whatever that might mean to you. Making you happy is what gives me pleasure. Nothing turns me on more than to know I’m exciting someone else. If I don’t know what makes you unhappy, how can I be successful?”
“I guess you can’t.”
“Exactly.” I raise an eyebrow. “So tell me how you really feel.”
“I know I don’t like the idea of being choked. It makes me think of drowning, which you already know I have issues with.”
“Yes, that makes sense when you correlate the two. What do you think of the pressure itself, no cho
king?”
“I don’t know how I feel about just having your hand on my throat.” Kas inhales deeply before looking into my eyes. “I’d be all right trying it to find out for sure if I like it or not.”
“That’s a much better answer.” I stand and grab her hand, pulling her to her feet. “Go stand against the wall.”
Kas walks slowly to the wall and presses her back against it. I stalk toward her, slowly and with purpose, keeping eye contact with her the whole time. I get up close, but not quite touching, lean in, and inhale the scent of her neck. I sense the change in her breathing, and I know her heart is pounding now. Excitement. Anticipation. Probably a little fear.
With my left hand, I grab the back of her neck, then run my fingers deep into her hair. I yank quickly, pulling her head back, and then place my other hand on the top of her chest.
Kas closes her eyes as I run my fingers up and wrap them around her throat. As I promised, I don’t squeeze at all. I only lay my palm against her carotid, feeling the rapid beat of her heart in the artery.
“How does that feel?” I ask softly.
“That’s okay,” she replies.
“Do you like it,” I ask, “or is it just ‘okay’?”
“I…” She shudders. “I like it.”
“Would it be all right if I squeeze just a little bit? I won’t cut off your air—just add a little more pressure to see what you think.”
“Okay.”
I tighten my grip just under her jaw.
“I can hold you here without cutting off any air at all,” I tell her. “I can actually squeeze pretty hard—hard enough to bruise your skin—without ever interfering with your ability to breathe. If I squeeze hard enough, you might get a little lightheaded, but I’m not going to do that. Still okay?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Uh…”
“Tell me how it makes you feel. I want details.”
