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Shibari

October 10, 2010

“Did you forget something?” asks Daniel, his eyebrow raised. Amusement plays around his mouth and eyes. He points to my ankle where a small glistening dash of come still remains. I smile sheepishly and reach for a tissue. It almost seems a shame to wipe it away; it is a small reminder of our encounter. I wish I could put it in a box, wrap it with a bow and keep it as my ‘treasure’. I could look at it now and then when I am old, and remember the time when I still had ‘it’.  When I was still physically alluring, youthful, athletic, exuberant, sexual, and could still turn heads when walking down the high street. When all that is gone, I intend to at least be interesting. I am a woman on a mission. There are two popular phrases that drive me, “youth is wasted on the young” and “It is better to regret something you have done, than something you haven’t”.Fuck it!  I fully intend to make the most of my youth. It has been surprisingly easy to find willing partners to assist me in my quest for sexual experiences. I simply advertised in the back of a  magazine. My ad reads:

Adventurous lady, will try almost anything once
Would like to meet men with unusual sexual
Desires for fun encounters and good times.
Most things considered. NO animals. NO ‘brown’ play.
Over 18’s only.

The multitudes of responses to my P.O.Box were varied and interesting. Some of them were downright bizarre, some didn’t seem humanly possible, and some were definitely illegal (if not, they should have been). At this point I realised that my personal boundaries for adventurous play might be seen by some as limited, but  I do have some standards. Daniels response was among the few who stood out as being acceptably daring, suitably exciting and above all different. Some might say that the encounter between Daniel and I was ‘sordid’ or ‘seedy’ and I can see why some would think that, but here’s the thing; it was also fun!

We met at Regents Park and spent a few hilarious hours drinking and talking in The Queens. He was both engaging and attractive, smartly dressed and well-groomed. He was slightly too muscular for my usual, more cautious taste. But I was trying to break free of old habits, and leave behind old fears. Eventually, Daniel looked at his watch looked at me with a raised eyebrow and said “I think we should get going, we have to get ready for the feast”. My pulse began to race, and my mind whirled with the possibilities that lay ahead.

We walked arm in arm to Camden, where Daniel had the use of a friends flat for the duration of the evening. The night was a little chilly and I was glad to have the warmth of him next to me. A low mist hung over the damp walkways and made the back streets and alleyways look somewhat menacing. The street lamps were enveloped in an orange tinted haze and everything seemed as though it were in soft focus. Through our conversations that evening I learned that Daniel had a penchant for all things Japanese, and was a student of Shorinji Kempo. Like many other Japanese martial arts the philosophy, training and discipline were intense and intricate, the basic principle being that spirit and body is one entity, inseparable and indistinct. He was also apparently proficient in the art of Shibari, which he promised to demonstrate to me when we arrived at his friends flat.
We entered through the large black wooden door of a double fronted Georgian town house, the flat was on the ground floor and I felt comfortable and warm there as soon as we arrived. The décor was plush and modern, the sofas were sumptuous and soft and abundant with cushions. There was a fire already burning in the grate and the logs popped and crackled. We stood for a while and warmed our hands, and then Daniel took my face in his hands, kissed me softly and just said “Delicious”. He smiled and his eyes held mine fast in his gaze. I suddenly felt an almost overwhelming desire to open his shirt and taste his skin. He smiled and moved over to a small liquor cabinet, he poured us a drink and then escorted me into the dining room.
Six chairs were set out around the room, but there was no dining table. On a side board at the far end of the room were small lacquered bowls, chopsticks and rests, and several platters full of sushi. Along side this there was Sake, water and some delicately carved ivory figurines of elephants each one had a smaller elephant trapped inside.
“Shall we begin?” he asked, opening the sideboard drawer and pulling out a long soft rope. I nodded.
“Take off your clothes for me Erica”

He folded his arms, then stroked at his lightly stubbled chin as he watched me undress, he seemed to be considering what to do with me.
“First, I am going to dress you” he said smiling. “This technique is known as Karada”
He placed a loop of rope around the back of my neck, and then made a series of knots running down my chest and stomach, the lowest one parallel with my cunt. He then pulled the rope up between my legs and pulled against it, so that the knot he had just made pushed into my slit. He followed this by looping the ends through the rope between the knots at my front. My bindings made a sort of lattice-work pattern over my skin. I was shaking slightly now, it was partly due to  nerves, but mostly excitement. The rope was tight, constrictive but not uncomfortable, and there was a slight pressure from the knot that pushed against my clit. My cunt was becoming ever more swollen and wet, but I knew it would be some time before he actually touched me. The anticipation was going to drive me insane with desire, all part of his plan no doubt.

When this was done he kissed me again, deeper this time, and more passionate than before. I could tell  he was starting to feel the excitement too as I could feel his cock through the soft silken material of his suit trousers. He briefly left the room, then brought in a metal pedestal that had a small round stainless steel top. He asked me to sit there as he tied further ropes to my ankles, midriff and neck, explaining as he went what the techniques were called and how they were originally used by Samurai warriors to ensnare and subjugate their enemies. Lastly, he bound my arms to my sides, my hands flat against the sides of my thighs. His movements were deft, sensual and precise. Very quickly I found myself immobilized completely. There was no going back now, I had no way of escaping even if I wanted to. My breath quickened as the thought occurred to me that at this point he could do anything to me at all and I would have no choice but to endure it.
He gently pushed against my chest and told me to lie back. He carefully held the back of my neck as I reclined slowly. Now I could see hooks which were fixed into the ceiling above us and suddenly I got the idea, I was going to be suspended here to act as the table for tonight’s feast. I felt a thrill of exhilaration and my cunt throbbed and became engorged, pushing harder against the rope over my clit. The more excited I became the greater the sensations I felt from my bonds. Eventually, he had suspended me there as his human table. He explained that he was going to leave the pedestal underneath me, as it would become unbearably uncomfortable if I was suspended for too long without it to rest on and he wanted to make sure that he and his friends could enjoy their feast. As a final gesture, almost an afterthought (though I knew it wasn’t) he tied a blindfold over my eyes.

He kissed me again and asked that I try to breathe as shallowly as possible; I was also instructed only to speak if I wanted to say the ‘safe word’ that we had agreed.  I felt nervous as he began to carefully and precisely lay the Sushi, bowls, chopsticks, drinks and ornaments out over my body. As each item was laid, they cooled small areas of my skin. Now and then his hands would stroke me, sending thrills of sensation over my now highly sensitive flesh, and he would ask quietly if I was doing ok. I could only nod; the power of speech had left me. The small morsels of food covered me almost entirely. Lastly, he  lifted me slightly so that he could remove the pedestal from underneath me, now my weight was supported only by the ropes that held me. They constricted and bit into my skin. He left me briefly then, and I could hear knocking and distant low  murmuring. Then the voices began getting louder, and I heard laughter as his guests arrived for their feast.

The guests slowly filtered into the room, each making their own exclamation of appreciation for the trouble he had gone to in their honour. I suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed, though strangely unabashed. The guests did not acknowledge me personally at all, and it was clear that although I was naked, bound and displayed in glorious suspension, to them I was no more than a piece of furniture. They chattered and laughed, discussed a little business and told dirty jokes as they ate. Occasionally I felt hands and elbows resting on me. The slightly rough ends of the wooden chopsticks dragged and dabbed against my skin as they picked up the small delicate rolls and squares of sushi. Each touch was a new and exquisite sensation; the feeling of sensitivity to contact grew as the meal went on. As they ate, more and more of my naked body was revealed, my excitement and frustration grew exponentially. By the time they got their last few mouthfuls and drank their Sake, I was flushed, wanton and desperate for relief from the sensual barrage.

He seemed to take forever to escort his guests out after their meal, though it probably was only minutes. It was only then that I realised how just uncomfortable I had become, I guessed that the adrenaline pumping through my system before, had stopped me from feeling the pressure of my bonds and the stress that gravity was exerting on my body. He came back in to the room then and asked if I would mind if he photographed me before I was lowered from my position. I answered no, I didn’t mind. I heard him take his camera from a drawer and he shot me like that, preserving the scene, I assumed for posterity.
He put the camera away, replaced the pedestal underneath me, and proceeded to untie me. He started at my neck, helped me to sit up and held me for a while as the blood rushed to my head and I felt a little dizzy, he kissed the areas where the ropes had left indentations in my skin.

His lips brushed against mine as his hands reached for my ankles, but he didn’t untie them, he stroked my shins, calves and thighs and murmured soft words of appreciation. He then put his hands underneath me, grasped the pedestal and lifted me so that I was closer to the rope which held my feet, which were still suspended. He asked me open my self to him and I let my knees fall to the sides exposing my cunt, by now I desperately wanted him to touch me.
Deftly his hands slid over my skin, hindered in their path from my breast to my cunt and down my spine by the snakes of rope wrapped around me, I wanted to reach out and touch him, pull him to me so that I could kiss him, feel the material of his clothes and the musculature beneath them pressed against my nakedness. As his fingers dipped into my silt they gathered some of the abundant moisture from there and his teeth clamped lightly on to a nipple. A shock wave radiated through me as his fingers adroitly stroked and teased my clit. My cunt felt as though it was aching and burning at his touch.

His tongue brushed back and forth over my nipple as the pressure from his teeth gradually increased, until I cried out for mercy unable to bear the sensation any more. At this he ducked under one knee, rising up again between my legs, and I, desperate now, pleaded with him to fuck me. He quickly resumed his teasing of my clit as the fingers of his other hand sank into my cunt, first two, then three, stretching me open and stroking me inside. I felt a flood of relief and shuddered visibly as I was finally granted some respite from the needful sensations prickling at me. As his fingers stroked upwards inside me, I came, hard. It was too quick, and it would be over too soon. I wanted the stir of sensation to last, but I was too far gone, I couldn’t pull back from the edge of the feeling. My cunt gripped and squeezed at his fingers my body tensed and tight. I threw my head back and screamed at a god I don’t believe in about the injustice of it all.

Daniel, exuberant, laughed at my newly developed ‘sex tourettes’ and held me, as I slowly came down and caught my breath. I laughed too, then his mouth met mine and we kissed deeply, I grateful, he licentious and still in need of release. He took off my blindfold now and I could see his lustful gaze.  “Untie me? Please, I want to touch you” I said, still slightly breathless.
“Not quite yet” he said, cocking his head and smiling. He moved from between my legs and around to my feet. His hands felt warm and welcome on my skin, my feet all the colder and more sensitive because the blood was still restricted from flowing there by my bonds. Every slight movement of his fingers was heightened by the added sensitivity. He traced his fingers along the sides of my soles, then across the front of my toes. I closed my eyes and let the sensation envelop me. Then he took his cock in his hand and began to trace a pattern of moisture there. Starting at my ankle he brushed himself along the soft skin of the arch of my foot, down to the instep and around to the other side ending up at the ankle of the other foot. A cold trail marked his path. He loosened the bonds at my ankle then, allowing me only the slightest amount of movement.

He told me to put the soles of my feet flat together, and then re tied them, a little looser this time. His hands covered the tops of my feet and he pushed his cock in between them. I smiled as he started to push his hips back and forth, stroking his self with my feet while pushing them together, varying the pressure and speed to suit his needs. I murmured words of encouragement, enjoying the strange sensation of his thrusts coupled with the heat building there as the blood slowly returned making them throb and tingle slightly. His shirt, unbuttoned now, allowed me a good view of his wide, strong muscular chest, the muscles of his stomach, while not quite a traditional six-pack were well-defined as he tensed them in his movement. Although he was utilising a part of me to fulfil his needs, I felt like a voyeur. It was as though I was detached from that part of myself and lasciviously, secretly watching him fucking the thing that was so obviously the object of his hearts desire. I watched the tip of his cock emerging them disappearing back between my feet. I could hear his breath becoming ragged and his movements became less controlled as he started to internalise the sensations he was giving himself.

Soft sighs escaped him as his movements built to frenzy, his cock throbbed and convulsed as his orgasm built, and he pulled out then from between my feet and rubbed his hand over his shaft. Small jets of warm come spotted and streaked over my feet and ankles. He cried out in his fervour, his own language now somewhat colourful. His legs buckled slightly and he tried to hold on to me to steady his self, my hands were still tied at my sides and I was unable to help. He fell to his knees, laughing joyously as he went. I laughed too, explaining that I would love to be of assistance, but was otherwise indisposed at the moment.

After he had taken a little time to recover, he stood and began to untie the rest of me. He started by lowering my feet and untying my ankles, then my hands and lastly the intricate lattice-work that wound around me. Between each release, he stopped to nurse, rub, and kiss and soothe each part of me, frequently expressing his gratitude for my participation in his fantasy and admiring the marks left on my skin by the ropes that had bound me. The process was sensual and relaxing. It was at this point that it started to become more apparent that this was not something I could do frequently. It required stamina and not a little physical strength to endure the bondage element of this foray into sexual exploration. Every muscle and joint had been pushed almost to its limit and I knew I would feel it the next day, as though I had been through an assault course.

Daniel pours me a drink as I dress myself, regarding me admiringly.
“What?” I ask.
“I just can’t believe this really happened” he says smiling “I was sure you would back out at some point. Never in my wildest dreams did I think it would turn out so well”
“Daniel, it’s me that owes you thanks,” I smile and walk over to him, slipping my hand inside his shirt, at last able to touch his soft, warm downy skin “This has been the greatest night of my life, so far.”
“Can I see you again?” he asks, sounding almost sad at the thought that he might not.
I had planned on making all of my encounters a series of discreet one night stands, I didn’t want to complicate my life with building relationships but, it seemed that Daniel might still have a thing or two to show me.

~ fin ~

From → Erotica

3 Comments
  1. OMG – i absolutely *love* this story!!! 😀 shibari is *such* a beautiful thing.
    the whole thing was interesting, and sweet, and funny, and….mmmmm……verrrrrrry nice indeed!
    i was entranced.

  2. Aww thank you Toni. xxx

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