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“I also have another friend whose total
BDSM kink is putting pillows over his partner’s wrists and ankles and telling
her not to move. She doesn’t and they call that kinky.”

Lauren chuckled. “After what you just did to
me? I’d call that vanilla!”

“What did you like most about that small
scene?”

“Small scene? I came like nobody’s business
and you never once even touched my clit. How did you do that?”

Now it was John’s turn to chuckle. “I
didn’t. The best orgasms start in the brain. You, my dear young lady, have an
excellent brain.”

Her blush had faded but now it came up
again at the compliment. “Thank you. But seriously, I thought friction to be a
necessary part of pushing the orgasm along.”

John nodded. “For most people, I think
that’s so. A combination of mood and physical touch is needed. But for others…”
He gestured to Lauren. “Others have such powerful imaginations that, coupled
with a small amount of sexual pain—”

“Like the paddling,” Lauren interrupted.

“Like the paddling,” John acknowledged.
“That’s all you need to push you over the edge. Not that a little physical
friction isn’t also sometimes needed.” He grinned and Lauren suddenly saw the
wolf hidden under his sheep’s clothing. Her still-moist pussy suddenly twinged.

A thought occurred to her. “You didn’t come
yet.”

John stood. “Not yet. I usually can manage
two, sometimes three times in a twenty-four-hour period. I don’t want to waste
one too early.”

Again she blushed, suddenly feeling like a
schoolgirl. Well, wasn’t she? John, a teacher in the outside world, also became
a teacher here in the bedroom, helping her understand not only what he wanted
from her, but what she wanted from herself.

Chapter Eleven

John held out his hand. “Break’s over. Back
on your feet.”

Lauren put her hand in his without
hesitation. He hauled her up, cuffs jingling, but instead of pulling her into
his arms, he led her only a few steps from the chair before leaving her and
moving the chair back against the wall.

“There are three types of binding,” he
explained as he picked up a small hank of white cotton rope. “Constriction
prevents movement.” He uncoiled it and dropped the majority to the floor.
Finding the two ends, he slid the soft rope through his hands to find the
middle. “We’ve done that both times.” He chuckled. “To great effect, I might
add.”

Lauren grinned in return. “Definitely to
great effect.”

He came behind her, bringing the rope over
her head to center it just under her breasts, pulling it back toward him and
crossing it tightly. She gasped and took a wider stance. He waited for her to
settle again before bringing the rope to the front again and crossing it up
between her breasts, bringing the ropes to the back again.

“Expansion stretches the body, opening it
for exploration.” He tied off the ends, having made a rope bra of sorts.
“Shibari is the Japanese art of using these two methods to force the body into
some wonderful shapes.”

“Is that what you’re doing now? Shibari?”
She tripped over the word a little and John corrected her pronunciation.

“A form of it, yes.” He pulled a set of
keys from his pocket. “Wrist cuffs have to go. They’re in the way.”

“Aww, I like these.” Despite her words, she
held out each wrist in obedience. He set them on the dresser and chose another,
slightly longer hank of the same rope.

“How do you know which one you want?”

“You see the ends? How they’re colored?
Blue is twenty-five feet, red is thirty, green means fifty feet. Put your hands
behind your back.”

He kept the intonation of his voice
practical. Another chapter, another small exposition. Besides which, talking
disarmed her, helped her from putting those walls back up that he’d already
taken down. That didn’t stop him from starting the tension by giving her nipple
a small tweak just to remind her of her purpose. The shiver she gave made it
worth it.

“There’s a position called the Reverse
Prayer. Not everyone can do it. You put your palms together and raise your arms
behind your back, as if in prayer.”

“Do you want me to try it?”

“I’ll let you make this call. I don’t know
your body well enough yet to know how flexible you are.”

“I’m in excellent shape.” He heard the grin
in her voice and watched her bend her arms upward. The movement forced her
breasts into the rope. “Oh my.”

“Very nice.” Before she could move again,
he looped the rope through her forearms several times, wrapping it tight enough
to prevent her from lowering her arms, but not tight enough to cut off
circulation to her hands. As it was, her arms would go to sleep if left in this
position too long.

“If you’re constricting me here, is it a
safe bet to say you’ll be stretching me down below?”

John gave a final tug, seating the knot.
Tucking the few inches of rope left into the tie, he stood back to examine his
handiwork. “Would you like to see what you look like?”

“Can I? I’d love to.”

“Be right back.”

While he was gone, Lauren twisted and
turned, testing the ropes. Each movement showed her restrictions in a new way.
Each one made her pussy open with need. Yeah, she liked this binding idea.

Of course, there was far more to the BDSM
lifestyle than just being tied up. Kinky sex alone actually fell pretty close
to the vanilla side. What about all the other parts? The Dominance and
submission, the power exchange, the Master/slave dynamic? Where did John stand
on those? For that matter, where did she?

Sarah willfully admitted to being Phillip’s
slave. Beth acknowledged her own dominance in the bedroom, yet conceded Paul
was not her slave. Where did she want to be with John? Because at this point,
she knew that much. She wanted Big John as a part of her life.

Just then he returned, digital camera in
hand. “I don’t have a good set of mirrors to show you the other side of you,
but if you’re willing, I’ll take a picture. We can delete it immediately.”

“Go ahead.”

The flash went off, then another. Lauren
found them extremely arousing. Not only to be naked and tied up, but
photographic evidence? Damn, but she was learning things about herself.

John came around and showed her the
picture. She smiled at the image of her hands pointed heavenward behind her
back. “Wow. That’s pretty—and incredible.”

“Does it hurt?”

Lauren shook her head. “Stretches my
shoulders some, but I suspect the minor discomfort is worth whatever you’re
going to do next.”

“I’ll delete these and get started then.”

“Don’t delete them!” She spoke quickly to
catch him.

John paused. “Really?”

She blushed. “I’d like a copy, actually.
They really are very…sexy.”

John laughed out loud. “Why, Lauren Carr,
are you telling me you are an exhibitionist?”

Her head dropped and she sighed. “I think I
might be.”

John’s hand came under her chin and tilted
her head up. “You are a wonderful, sexy woman who deserves the very best
experience I can give you.”

He spoke from the heart. John had dropped
the Dom mask, dropped the gentleman mask, dropped every mask and given Lauren a
glimpse at the man he truly was. She couldn’t speak. Finally she managed a weak
thank you and the spell broke.

John had been unnerved by the energy that
passed between them in that moment. He guessed that Lauren was too. John walked
behind her and put his palms on his dresser, steadying himself until he
regained control. What was that all about?

Determined to complete the tie-up, he
picked up a third length of rope, this one coded with a pink end signifying ten
feet. Such short lengths were good for what he had in mind. Going back to
Lauren, he didn’t dare make eye contact. Taking her nipple and pulling it
forward, he might have been a little more forceful than was necessary to judge
by the suddenness of her gasp. Not letting it deter him, he gave her nipple a
twist before letting it go.

Still not looking at her, he slid the rope
under her right breast, bouncing the globe on the soft rope a moment before
crossing the ropes and wrapping them around each other. A quick movement and
the breast rounded, squeezed tightly by the rope.

Lauren gasped again and John kept wrapping
the breast and giving a quick tie to cinch it. Wrap, cinch. Wrap, cinch. The
breast turned pink, then red, then a wonderful lavender.

Another ten-foot rope took care of the
other breast. In John’s experience no woman had identical breasts. One was
always slightly larger than the other. In Lauren’s case, the left took one less
turn of the rope. It too swelled and changed color.

Lauren’s breathing became shallow, quicker
in tempo. Taking no pity on her, he ran his fingernails over her engorged
breasts. She cried out and stepped back, her legs suddenly unsteady. Well, he
could take care of that.

Lauren’s head reeled. He changed so
quickly. One moment the teacher, the next speaking from the heart, the next the
powerful Dom who only saw her body as a medium to sculpt for his pleasure. Her
pussy openly gushed her arousal.

He pulled her back toward the bed, but
didn’t put her on it. Feeling a little foolish standing there, she watched him
put a heavy rope over a large hook hanging from the ceiling. Had that always
been there? How could she have not seen it?

Of course, there had been so many changes
to the room she shouldn’t be surprised that she hadn’t taken them all in. John
worked quickly to set the rope to his needs, but Lauren had time to appreciate
again his grace in movement. She wished he’d taken off his shirt. She would’ve
loved to see those muscles move as he reached up and knotted the rope in place.

Satisfied, he came back to her. He stood
before her and she looked up at him, determined to make eye contact, but when
they did, she nearly stepped away.

Determined. Not going to take any flack.
Not going to be disobeyed. All those things, she saw in his eyes.

He put her under the hook and tied the rope
he’d hung to the ties at her back. Pulling her up onto her toes, she suddenly
found herself off balance. The rope caught her, however, and wouldn’t let her
fall.

John turned her away from him and again she
had to lean into the ropes before she could catch her balance. He caught her
foot and brought it up, sliding a loop of rope over her knee and tightening it
so she couldn’t put it back down. Finding balance on one foot was harder, but
she did it. The breeze came in the window and across her now-spread pussy and
she nearly came.

He stood before her, the anger gone from
his eyes. Now he held only command. “You’re going to be tempted to give in to
it. Don’t. Come only when I tell you.”

“Got it.”

His hand dipped between her legs and Lauren
gave up trying to think. She leaned forward without realizing it, her head down
and her eyes closing to better concentrate on the wonderful tingles he caused
as he fingered her pussy lips, parting them to probe deeper, eventually sliding
a single finger inside her.

“You’re not going to come, are you?”

She didn’t want to break the mood by
answering, so she only shook her head. No, she didn’t want to come. This place
felt so wonderful…just floating here…his fingers working magic.

He stepped closer. The top of her head
brushed him and she leaned forward a little more, raising her head to lean her
cheek against his shirt. He felt so strong beside her. His free arm encircled
her, holding her tightly. Her bound breasts pressed against his chest and she
bit her lip to keep herself from coming.

John picked up the tempo, rubbing his
fingers harder over her tender skin. The small mewling noises she couldn’t stop
became whimpers of desire and turned into moans of need. His occasional touches
on her clit made her gasp. The soft, warm place of just a moment ago became a
raging torrent and she gave voice to it.

“Please let me come, John. I can’t—”

“Hold it.” His voice, strong and firm, gave
her something to hold on to. Gasping, she opened her eyes.

“Ready?”

Keeping such a tight rein on her body, she
barely had the ability to nod.

“Come for me then, Lauren. Come for me.”

And she did. His fingers danced between her
pussy lips, pressing on her clit, sliding in and out, pushing, poking,
prodding. She leaned against him, letting the ropes take all her weight, her
pussy wanting his touch as the orgasm coursed through her.

She took a deep breath as her body quieted.
John pressed again on her clit and another orgasm flipped her over the edge. If
her hands had been free she would’ve held onto him for support. But they
weren’t and all she could do was hang there and submit. And when he whispered
in her ear, “One more time,” and rubbed her clit again, all she could do was
throw her head back and laugh as she climaxed a third time.