Around her she saw people doing all sorts of playing. There was a man using a device with a bright purple lightbulb on the end to shock a naked woman lying tied to a table. She was alternately screaming and laughing, and he mixed in his own occasional maniacal laugh. At another, a woman her size was receiving a spanking, and her ass was turning pink.
Did mine look like that?
It didn’t look fun or comfortable. Then she saw the woman wiggle her ass saucily, as if to ask for more—and her Dom increased his efforts.
Okay, she really likes it.
The thin woman she had seen earlier around the campfire, the one called Sue, was flogging another woman on a St. Andrew’s cross, while the man she’d seen her with, whom Remy had called Dane, was watching with arms crossed over his bare, muscular chest. The oddest thing about that was that Sue was wearing a collar, along with an outrageous leather outfit that only half covered her nipples, and the woman she was beating wasn’t wearing anything at all. Wasn’t the sub supposed to wear a collar? She touched her own neck.
I’m just playing at this. For a weekend. No collars for me.
Finally, Colby returned. He plopped a bag next to her, and she stood, ready to start whatever he had in mind.
“Kneel, Sophia,” Colby said. It was hard to tell if he was cross or not.
“Why?” she asked. After all, the reason for kneeling, holding the frame, was over. He was back. He didn’t reply immediately. She knelt back on the floor and waited. And sighed.
I’m not cut out for this.
“First of all, Sophia, when you kneel, you are not to rise until I tell you that you can. And that goes for any order I give you. It is to be followed until I tell you otherwise. If you need to ask to change, then you may ask, but you must wait for permission. Otherwise I would have to constantly be telling you to continue.”
She nodded. She had gone through similar things with her kids.
But I’m no child.
It took her a moment to realize he wasn’t treating her like one, as such. He was inviting her to see how it worked from his perspective, which was a far cry from
because I said so
.
“Now, Sophia, are your legs sore in such a way that makes you need to move?”
“A little,” she admitted. But she didn’t want to be perceived as a wimp either. It really was just a slight ache. “I can hold this for a while longer, Colby.” She noted he hadn’t asked her to move her arms.
“Thank you. You won’t have to for long.”
He reached into his bag and took out a length of red rope, looked at her, put it back, and took out a purple rope instead that looked nearly identical to her other than the color. She giggled. She’d never thought of bondage as something that had to be color coordinated before, but she did think she looked better in purple than in red.
“So, Sophia, have you thought about why I might want you to kneel instead of stand?” He ran the rope through his hands as if inspecting it for blemishes by touch.
She hadn’t thought about it at all. She looked at the rope in his hands and shivered. He was going to tie her up with that. She didn’t know how it would feel, but she did know it would make her helpless.
Unless I distract him.
“Because it puts me at the perfect height for a blowjob?” She licked her lips.
Although, honestly, if he orders me to go down on him right now, I think I’ll use my safe word.
“No. That’s a good point, and one I might enjoy later, but that’s not the reason you’re kneeling now.”
She shook her head and then said, “I guess it’s because you want me to feel all subservient and stuff. I’m trying. But it’s not really working.”
He chuckled. “Not subservient. Submissive. There’s a difference. But it’s really more that special poses are a way to set our time apart. Think of it like a magic circle. Or a bonfire. Outside the immediate vicinity of the bonfire, the world is normal, and the normal rules apply. Nearby is a special place, where, if not magic, at least something deeply spiritual may take place. This dungeon is a kind of magic circle, where the participants agree to follow certain rules and promote a certain atmosphere. But the one I’m concerned about is the one that just includes me and you.”
He tugged at his vest. “We could do this with me wearing any clothing. And I do, in fact, do BDSM wearing normal clothes. But the leather helps set it apart. Like a priest’s robe. Or those funny wigs British judges wear. It says that today I’m not Colby Brock, the lawyer or the ex-cop or anything else. I’m Colby Brock, the dominant. The sadist. And right now, you’re not Sophia, the mom. You’re Sophia, the submissive. And we need help to transition from one to the other. We need ritual. You kneel. I feel the rope or the toys I’m about to use. The rituals work not only for the person doing them, but for the other, observing. And, in practice, I want to make sure my rope is going to support your weight—if I was going to do a suspension, which I’m not. We’re starting simpler today. Rise, Sophia. Stand in the middle of the frame, and I will introduce you to bondage.”
“Well, that’s better than sold into slavery.” She got up and moved as directed.
He chuckled. “I can see you’re a handful.”
She wanted to face away from the crowd, but the frame was only a short distance from the stage in the center of the room. A woman was being flogged by two good-looking Doms on the post where she once stood, she noticed. As she hesitated about which way to face, Colby put his hands on her shoulders and decided for her. She yielded to his touch.
“Face me,” he said. “Good girl. I want you paying attention to me. Watch my movements. Pay attention to the feel of the rope. This is a very distracting environment, which is one of the downsides of play parties. There’s lots of things to crash through the circle we’re creating. But you don’t want me looking at the pretty girl being flogged, so you’re going to have to take your eyes off the Doms flogging her.”
She gave him a mischievous smile. “But they’re all hunky.”
He moved around behind her and put his arms around her shoulders, resting them on the swell of her chest. “I’ll take your word on that, because I know I’m no judge. I have a blindfold if you need it, but I don’t want to mix too many things at once, so if you can keep your eyes on me, I’d prefer that.”
She leaned back against him. He was solid and comforting. She bent her neck back to look at him. “And if I can keep my tongue in check, you won’t gag me?”
“I won’t gag you regardless. Again, I don’t want to mix too many things in at once. Your smart-mouthing doesn’t bother me. I’m secure in what I do. But it’s like the kneeling, Sophia. The things you do, the things you say, help establish a headspace for yourself. And you’re depriving yourself of an experience if you’re going to spend this time trying to think of the next clever thing to say.”
Oh. She hadn’t thought of it that way. She took a deep breath and then pursed her lips closed. “So what are you waiting for?”
“We’re spending a moment connecting. Do you have any breathing issues I should know about? Asthma? Any allergies?”
“I’m allergic to shellfish.”
“We’ll steer away from that, then. Anything else?”
She shook her head. What could allergies have to do with tying someone up? Still, she appreciated that he was being careful.
He let her go and walked around to her front with a smile on his face. He had the rope folded in half and had the middle of the rope in one hand, the two ends in the other. “Hands up, please.”
His approval shouldn’t mean anything to me. But I like it.
She lifted her hands.
“Lovely. We’re going to start with the chest. And before you feel the need to say something, yes, it’s partly because I like breasts. But it’s also a good place to start for other reasons.” He reached around her with both hands, and when he came forward again, he had only the two ends, still in one hand. He passed the doubled rope over the tops of her breasts and then fiddled in the back again before bringing it forward once more. This time he lifted her breasts to pass the rope under them.
The rope he used looked a little different from what she’d bought at the hardware store. It was a little rougher looking but felt softer, like it had more give to it. She wasn’t sure, because she’d never tried to wrap the rope from the hardware store around her breasts. He made another pass over her breasts again, then brought the rope in two strands over her shoulders to cinch the ropes together. It was almost like a bra, and she wasn’t sure whether the way the lower and upper ropes pressed on her breasts was uncomfortable or pleasant. What she did know was that her nipples were tingling by the time he was done.
My breasts have always loved attention, and if it comes with rope, then so be it.
He brushed the back of his hand over one nipple. She looked down. They weren’t just tingling, they were hard and jutting out, and even a light touch from him made her shiver.
“Are they supposed to be this sensitive when you do that?” she asked. She hoped so. She hoped everyone reacted like that, because she wanted to be normal. Mostly.
“Well, I like it when they are,” he said. “Your reactions are your own.”
His words didn’t reassure, but it didn’t matter as he casually stroked her other nipple.
You wanted my full attention. You have it.
It was taking all her willpower not to bring her arms down to stop him, even though what he was doing felt good. It was right on the edge of being too intense.
“Let’s do more, shall we, my little hedonist? Give me your hands.” He reached down and grabbed two more coils of purple rope from the bag.
She flopped her hands forward.
He chuckled. “Sorry, after I just gave you a lecture too. Lower your hands, and put them in mine.”
She did as directed, wondering what he was going to do. The rope around her chest felt interesting, but it wasn’t what she thought of as bondage. It didn’t stop her from doing anything. She had the feeling that was about to change, and it excited her and made her nervous.
He put one of the coils of rope in her left hand. “Hold this, please.”
She gripped it.
He started wrapping rope around her right wrist, almost idly, making sure the rope lined up in a neat little row. He didn’t appear to be in a hurry about it, but neither did he hesitate. When he was done, he tied it off and pulled her hand to the side. He left some bend in her elbow and then said, “There. Hold it right there.”
She wondered what he’d do if she didn’t. But her curiosity to find out what would happen if she obeyed was greater. Keeping the rope taut, he tied the other end of the rope to a ring on the side of the frame, just about shoulder height. If she didn’t adjust her feet, she could stretch her arm out a little toward the post, although she didn’t think she could quite reach, but she couldn’t bring it any closer.
“Why’s the frame so big?” she asked.
“Good design,” he said approvingly. “To make sure subs like you can’t reach the ends of the rope and work yourself free.” He plucked the rope from her other hand and started tying that.
“What are you going to do to me once you have me tied up?” She tried not to sound nervous but wasn’t sure she’d succeeded.
“That depends on whether you behave or not. I have something very pleasurable in my bag. And a few things that are not.”
Oh, I bet you do.
She had no idea what he might have that was pleasurable, but she had a very good idea from her peek into his other bag that he might have a few objects that were downright nasty.
I think I’ll be a good girl. For now.
He tied up her other hand exactly the same way. Same number of coils around the wrist, same knot, same position. This time he didn’t ask her to hold the position he put her arm in. He assumed she understood. And she did. She wasn’t sure whether it was her desire to avoid whatever mean toys he might have or simply her desire to have him think she had a good head on her shoulders that kept her impish side from taking over.
He finished tying her. She could probably move, she realized, by stretching out one arm, then stepping in the opposite direction. Then, possibly, if she stretched out the other arm too, she might be able to get her hand on a knot, but it would be close. And she’d get in trouble, which totally wouldn’t be worth it if she couldn’t succeed. He could stop her by force, anyway.
Unlike with the scarves and her fumbling college boyfriend, this time she really was stuck.
“Good girl,” he said.
“I swear I’d slap any other date who said that.”
“I’m not your date. I’m your Dom. Big difference. Also, I think you’d be hard put to slap anyone right now.”
“Good point.” She grinned. Maybe this was fun after all.
He grinned back. “Now, I have a question for you. Because while I am playing with you in public, my intention isn’t to humiliate you.”
“So what’s the question?”
“Would you find it too embarrassing to come?”
She shrugged. “If you could actually get me to come, then I probably won’t care. But it won’t happen. Not like this. Not standing up, and not with me self-conscious. I need to be very relaxed or there’s no way.” A few years ago, she had a boyfriend try while the kids were asleep, and she couldn’t. They ended up breaking up over it, with him calling her frigid.
I don’t have good taste in men, and now is probably no exception. But it’s just a weekend.
He had an amused and confident smile on his face.
“What?”
“You’re on,” he said. “I love a challenge. In fact, if you don’t come, I’ll buy you a steak dinner at a restaurant in town. A fair wager?”
“Sure. I like steak.” She could taste it already, because she knew for a fact she wasn’t going to come.
“But if I win, I want you to throw yourself into your role this weekend, and thoroughly explore submission as well as you can. Maybe you’ll like it, maybe you’ll hate it. But you’ll know beyond a shadow of a doubt at the end of the weekend if you try your best.”
Wasn’t I supposed to try my best anyway?
But she knew her heart hadn’t really been into it. And if she made the bet, she’d feel even more obligated. Didn’t matter, though, because he wasn’t going to win. “Fair enough,” she said. “But I’m not agreeing to you having sex with me.”