Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I just borrowed the names. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without written authorization. ©2010 SwedenSara. All rights reserved worldwide.
I'm sorry this took so long. I've been writing an incredibly personal piece called Vanishing, for BeyondThePale contest. It's on my profile, read and review if you are so inclined. I also wrote a oneshot for Bellabee66 - my first slash piece ever! It was hard...
Thanks to Netracullen and FangMom for being awesome betas - I'm so happy I have you. Thanks to my Twitter girls for encouraging me to write the lemon - you know who you are...
Ropes and Revelations
One week has passed between our first session with Dr. Young, and the second was earlier today. The past few days have been confusing on so many levels, one being the extremely erotic dream I had after our first session and the incredible lovemaking afterwards. It has lingered in the back of my mind every day, and fractions of the dream have returned during the nights. I don't understand what it stands for, and what my reaction to it means. I've spent countless hours picking it apart. In the dream, my fears of being tied up blended with my own sexual fantasies, creating something that should be scary, but was not. I don't get why I wasn't scared.
I've been over it all time and time again, but I still don't understand. Sometimes I've felt like I'm onto something. An embryo of a thought has slowly emerged, but dispersed again before I could grasp it. I'm beyond frustrated, on the verge of angry, as we return from our second session. I know we mentioned something today that could explain things to me, but I fail to see what it was, and in what way it is important.
Edward seems to sense that I'm in a bad mood, and takes care of the kids while I slam around in the kitchen making dinner. I put the pasta in the boiling water and stare at the steam rising from the pot while the dream replays in my mind. The chair, the darkness, the woman, the restraints… I shake my head. Dreaming about being tied up wasn't scary; it was hot, which is both confusing and slightly reassuring. Maybe it meant that I shouldn't be afraid to try? I feel stuck, and I want – no, I need – to be able to move forward. After all I promised myself that I would try to give Edward some of the things he wants. Maybe the dream is here to tell me it's time?
We plan the weekend chores while we eat. I volunteer to stay at home and clean the house on Saturday, if Edward goes grocery shopping with the kids. I know that will give me some spare time alone, since I clean fast, and he's a slow shopper.
When a friend of Edward's calls after dinner and suggests a beer, I tell him to go. They haven't met in a long time, and I want some time on my own to think things through.
When the kids are put to bed and the house is quiet, I sit down by the computer. I need to prepare myself, to do some research and figure out what I might be willing to try. I sit for a while, wondering what to search for, and then I dive into it. After typing words like "bondage" and "domination", I get an endless search result. Apparently this isn't as unusual as I thought it was. I read the sites information cautiously before clicking on carefully chosen links, nervous that I'll stumble upon something I don't want to see.
A blog catches my eye, and it seems pretty harmless to me. I open it up, peeking through my eyelids, prepared to close my eyes at unwanted pictures. But there are no pictures. It's mostly text. I look at the blog info and realize it's a couple's blog. Most of the posts are from a Mr. D, and once in a while Ms. D has posted. It all seems very normal and friendly, and I quickly loose myself in their story.
Mr. D is a wordy man, and he writes about what he likes to do to Ms. D. His descriptions are detailed, and his words are soft and loving. It soon becomes evident that his only wish is to give Ms. D pleasure. That is what drives him, though he apparently enjoys it a lot himself. Even when he writes about things I haven't even considered as possibly pleasurable, he has only one thing in mind: that Ms. D will enjoy it, even though she doesn't know that yet.
He is so well aware of her body and it's reactions, what she finds arousing and not, and how her body will respond to his touch. He takes great care in planning his actions and their plays, from the build-up to the gentle aftercare. Every move he makes has a meaning, and one sole purpose: her pleasure.
His devotion to her is captivating, and his words, when he describes how beautiful and brave she is, move me deeply.
Ms. D isn't as wordy as him. Her posts are less descriptive, almost shy, but it's evident how much she enjoys playing. The love and trust she shows him is overwhelming, and I suddenly understand what Edward talked about that night, when I had discovered the pictures. "It's all about trust, you know. And that is what I wish… that you'd trust me."
I get it. I get why he wants that. Reading her words, her reflections on the things they do, is fascinating. I want to understand what she finds so alluring, what she means when she says she needs it as much as he does. One small line in one of the posts describing her feelings about a bondage situation sticks in my mind.
"Being tied up, immobile and helpless isn't about being deprived of pleasure. It's about not being able to escape it."
I stare at the screen. I have never thought about it that way.
The dream comes back to me at night, again. I wake up aroused, and as I imagine the feeling of my wrists tied to the chair, rendering me immobile, I feel the throb increasing between my thighs. I press my face into the pillow and moan quietly.
I only slumber for the rest of the night, not being able to turn off the thoughts. I'm tired when we finally get up, but resolved to do something about all this. I may not understand this dream fully, but maybe that's not necessary?
I wave goodbye to Edward and the kids as they drive off to the grocery store, and quickly clean the house before firing up the computer again. I go back to the blog and continue reading. I notice the posts are labelled with the type of play they describe, and I choose the ones labelled "Bondage". After all, that's what seems most important to Edward.
The things I read about here are a lot different from some of the things I've seen in pictures. Nothing elaborate, no weird body positions, nothing that makes me wonder how on earth it's possible for a person to even do without breaking any limbs. They even give useful tips on aftercare, what type of rope to use, and what to think about when tying the knots. Somehow it all seems pretty… safe. It doesn't feel like something to be afraid of. As I scroll down the page, an image turns up. It's not a photograph; it's a series of very simple drawings.
I click to enlarge and study it closely. It turns out to be instructions on some kind of Japanese bonding style. What's interesting about it is that although there are a lot of knots and ropes, the girl in the picture isn't fastened to something. The rope is tied around her body, with an intricate web of knots, and she is still fully mobile. The last picture even shows her fully dressed, indicating that this could be worn underneath your clothes.
My heart skips a beat when the realization hits me. This is something I could actually do! This is bondage without being immobilized.
After printing the picture I pick up the phone to text Edward. I smile to myself as I compose the message.
Can you buy some rope? I've learned today that flag halyard is soft against the skin.
I click send, and the answer comes within a minute.
I'm coming home.
I giggle to myself and hide the printed picture in our bedroom, my heart pounding hard. As I wait for Edward and the kids to come home, my previous resolve dissipates and I find myself wavering again.
The rest of the day passes in a blur. The atmosphere is tense, quivering with nervous excitement. My giddiness from when I was alone has evaporated, and I'm suddenly very nervous. None of us address the rope or the texts we exchanged earlier. We avoid looking at each other, not out of anger or resentment, but because we're unsure of how this will turn out. We both know we are either heading towards a disaster, or something really good. I can only hope it's the second.
I peek at the roll of flag halyard when Edward picks it out and hides in our bedroom, but I'm too nervous to take a closer look at it. I hear the rustle of paper as he finds the picture I printed, and I guess he is studying it intently since it takes a while for him to come back out. The knowledge of what he's been looking at makes me blush, and I busy myself in the laundry room to avoid him. I can sense he's both nervous and excited, and he's quieter than usual.
As the evening approaches we put the kids to bed, and spend some time watching TV. I'm very aware of him sitting on the opposite couch, and glance at him repeatedly. He seems in deep thought, and I don't know if I should say something to him. When the kids are sound asleep and the night has fallen, we simultaneously rise, go to the bathroom and brush our teeth, still without talking. Both of us know what's going to happen, but we don't know what to say to each other.
I stand with my back to him as he locks our bedroom door. Not knowing what to do, I just stand there and listen to him as he's undressing and preparing the flag halyard. I bite my fingernails and stare at the wall in front of me. I hear him come closer, and feel him against my body as he embraces me from behind.
He undresses me slowly, and stands behind me for a while with his arms around my body. I feel him pressing against my backside; warm, hard and velvety. He releases me and walks around me. I shift uncomfortably, not used to having someone paying that much attention to my body. I don't know where to look or what to do with my arms. It makes me feel nervous and weird, and I have to fight the urge to cover myself. Glancing at the white, glossy rope in his hands, I wonder what it will feel like. When Edward walks up in front of me and lifts his hands I hold my breath.
He gently slides a loop of the rope over my head, and I feel it against the back of my neck. It's a bit cold, but my body warms it quickly. The strands hang down in front of me, running over my naked breasts, grazing my nipples. It lies against my bare stomach and touches the curls on my sex before falling to the floor, forming two small piles by my feet.
Edward takes the ropes, ready to tie the first knot just below my collarbones. I watch his hands as they work, putting the knot in place. I feel a slight pressure against my skin, like having a pendant on a necklace resting against my chest.
He motions for me to raise my arms above my head, and I comply. I'm relieved that he's giving me something to do with my arms, and it takes the edge off some of the uneasiness I feel. I watch his hands as they continue to make a string of knots. One is right between my breasts, the next halfway to my belly button, and the last one is just above my pubic bone.
Suddenly, watching this is too much for me. I don't want him to stop, but I'm overwhelmed by the intensity of seeing his hands move over my body, feeling the texture of the rope against my skin, and the rapt attention I'm getting. I close my eyes, desperately needing to block one of my senses out. I feel his hands against my cheeks as he holds my face.
"Bella, are you okay? Do you want me to stop?" he whispers softly. I feel guilty for closing my eyes, for making him believe there's something wrong. You are supposed to look at your beloved in moments of intimacy, and instead I shut my eyes, blocking him out. I swallow and shake my head, eyes still closed.
"No, I'm fine. I'm sorry, I just… can't watch. I didn't mean to disappoint you. It's not because I don't want to see you, it's just… too much at the same time," I mumble incoherently.
Edward gently massages my shoulders. "It's okay Bella. Just promise to tell me to stop if you feel uncomfortable, okay?"
"I feel stupid standing with my eyes closed like this. I feel like I'm failing," I admit to him.
"Oh no, you couldn't possibly fail. In fact, I think you are beautiful like that. I enjoy it, and it takes the pressure off of me, too, when you're not watching what I do. I'm a bit nervous as well, you know. I think I want you to keep your eyes closed. At least until I'm done, okay?"
Again, I feel such a relief when he tells me what to do. I don't have to decide on my own, I don't have to wonder how to act or if I make the right choice.
I sigh and make myself comfortable in the safe darkness behind my closed eyelids. His hands ghost over my body, adjusting the rope. I feel it slide between my legs, pressing against my mound. The blood rushes down between my thighs, creating a sweet pulsating throb that makes me push my hips forwards in search of friction. A quiet moan escapes my lips as he parts the strands and pulls them to the sides, away from the swollen spot I need them to touch. He pulls the ropes around my legs just below my backside, and brings them back to the front.
I keep the picture in my mind and keep track of his motions as his warm hands skim my body, gently working the rope around me. Weaving the intricate web, he is encircling my body and securing it, and it gives me the feeling of being inside a harness. With the straining rope and the knots pressed against my skin, I realize I feel not incapacitated or trapped, but held together and safe. He is tying me an armour, to protect me from the world and keep me from falling apart.
As he secures the final knot and steps back, I hear him gasp.
"God, you're beautiful," he murmurs. "Open your eyes, Bella. Look at yourself."
I peek through my eyelids. The soft glow of the bed lamps fills the room with a golden light. Edward's eyes are filled with admiration and love, and I look down on my body.
He is right. It is beautiful.
He leads me to the bed and holds my hand as I climb up on it. The strain of the ropes elicits a sweet tingling sensation, and I move a little extra just to feel it tighten around my body. He lays me down on my back and sits beside me. I suddenly feel very self-conscious again, shy and nervous. I feel a blush creeping over my chest, and I try to find some place to lay my eyes at. Once again I find I can't look at Edward, and I don't know what to do with myself.
"Close your eyes," he says, and I quickly shut them willingly, thankful that he is leading me in this.
"Do you want me to put a blindfold on you?" he asks, slightly hesitating.
I think about it. A blindfold wasn't a part my plans for tonight. I haven't prepared myself for it. But if I want to keep my eyes closed, why not? That way I won't have to wonder if I'm supposed to watch something, because I won't be able. I won't have to make any decisions about that. I'm a bit unsure about it, but I nod slowly.
"Can you make it a little bit see-through, so I'm not completely blind?" I ask him.
"Of course," he answers, and I hear him rustle around in my closet. I know what he's looking for even before he finds it, and I recognize the feel of the soft fabric as he touches my cheek with it. It's a thin, dark blue scarf, and I know that even if he folds it a few times, I'll still be able to see through it if I want to. A smile is playing on my lips as he puts it across my eyes, lifts my head and secures it in the back. I open my eyes, and I can easily make out his silhouette against the soft glow from the lamp in the window.
I don't need to see anymore. The knowledge that I still can is enough. I close my eyes and relax, knowing that he won't expect me to do anything that needs my vision.
"Lift your arms above your head," he whispers, and as I put them in place, I feel the rope tighten around me. I'm suddenly very aware of my body, and my skin is tingling with sensations. I take a deep breath, and the movement makes the web strain around my chest.
Edward's fingers graze the skin on both sides of the rope, following it across my breasts. The different sensations of his soft fingertips and the strain from the rope are exhilarating, and I shiver as he skims my waist. I feel him lean down over me, and I raise my chest to meet him as he blows a hot breath on my breasts. They feel slightly swollen from the pressure surrounding them, and the skin is so much more sensitive than I'm used to. Grazing my skin with his lips, he trails over my breasts, setting my skin alight. I moan as the warmth of his mouth embeds my pert nipple and I feel his tongue swirl around it.
The bed shifts as he slides between my thighs and positions himself above me. Heat is emanating from his body, and even though he is not touching me, I can feel he's close. As he lowers down, covering me with his body and cradling my face in his hands, I feel nothing but safe. I lift my arms to embrace him, but he quickly clasps them and brings them back above my head.
"Don't move your arms, Bella. I'm taking care of you now. You don't have to do anything."
I lace my fingers together and slide my hands under the back of my head. Edward moves down, placing small kisses over my body. His lips skim my belly as his fingers find my nipples, teasing, stroking and pinching them lightly. Waves of pleasure rolls through my body as his lips finally graze my swollen nub, and I lift my hips to meet his eager mouth. The straining ropes combined with my sensitive skin, his teasing fingers and skilled tongue set my nerve endings on fire. I dig my fingers into the back of my head as I feel my body tense, and I reach my climax moaning his name.
When my shaking body comes to rest, my need for him to replace his soft mouth and wet tongue with something else grows. I want to feel him inside, to have him connected to me in the most basic way possible. I would have shown him my wishes by simply taking his head in my hands and pull him up to me, but with my arms above my head I can't do that. I need to voice my desire, to tell him in words. I haven't done that in a long time. I swallow deeply before I whisper my words.
"Edward… Come. I want you inside of me."
His slightly scruffy cheek rests against the sensitive skin on my thigh for a few seconds, before he slides up, hovering above me again. I tilt my head to the side, and his lips find the sensitive skin below my ear. He moans against my neck as he slowly enters me, and we move together as one; his body moulded into mine, joined together, united. His release comes quickly, and I feel him pulsating inside of me before he relaxes. His body weighs down on me, grounding me, reminding me of how satisfying closeness feels. I release my hands and put my arms around him as his breathing evens out.
Lying there, with Edward pinning me to the bed, I try to make sense of the emotions flowing through my body. I recognize some of the feelings from my dream.
There were both excitement and relief in not being able to see what went on. Being deprived of sight meant an element of surprise, and it made me focus more on my other senses. It was a relief not seeing anything, because it made me feel less insecure about myself and my appearance.
The strain of the ropes added sensitivity to my skin, making every nerve in my body buzz with pleasure. I realize I enjoyed the feeling against my skin, much like I had in my dream.
With my hands secured above my head, I didn't have to think about what to do with them, if I was supposed to touch him, and, in that case, how to do it. I didn't have to decide what to do; I could simply do as I was told. It meant Edward had no expectations on my performance.
Ultimately, it meant that I didn't have to worry about disappointing him.
My mind is reeling. This was nothing like I expected. I enjoyed being told what to do. I liked following his gentle orders. I felt safe being in the dark. Suddenly I understand what I had missed in our therapy session, the hint I failed to see earlier.
"... the wife and lover part isn't something I feel I do very well."
"... maybe I do have high expectations on myself."
I'm afraid of failing. I'm afraid of not being good enough. I'm afraid of dissappointing him. In that fear, I preferred to stay out of sex entirely, rather than to risk failing his – and my own – expectations. Being with him like this, when he tells me what to do, when he guides me and I follow, takes those fears away. It makes my insecurities unimportant, and they fade away.
Being with him like this means no decisions. No wondering what to do. No performance anxiety. No expectations.
When you take away all of that, what do you have left?
Only pleasure.
A/N These pictures are the inspiration to the drawings Bella found on Mr. D's blog. Take a look if you are curious, but stay out of it if you're underage. But then you shouldn't be reading this at all, should you? Don't forget to review! I love your words.
http:/ / edjsaan1(dot)tripod(dot)com/id7(dot)html
http:/ / www(dot)jamesgmonroe(dot)com/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/kikkou-shibari-rope-bondage-how-to(dot)jpg