(L) – This story contains strong language.
Editor’s Note to Readers:
We don’t usually add or allow links to outside sources, since there is so much material out there about sex that contradicts our values. However, we thought that a tasteful, non-pornographic visual aid would be helpful for those who are unfamiliar with this practice of rope bondage, so we have added the links in one paragraph where specific types of ties are mentioned. We are not affiliated with the linked site, we simply thought they provided a good visual aid and description of the techniques and ties used in this story. We hope they’re useful!
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When it comes to talking about sex, my wife Lucy can be something of an enigma.
I’m usually the talkative one in the bedroom. I love complimenting Lucy’s body, telling her how good she makes me feel, and describing all the things I want to do with her and to her — sharing my fantasies about all the dirty, raunchy things I’ve dreamed up for us, using the kind of language I save only for her.
Sometimes Lucy follows my lead, if she’s feeling completely comfortable. And once in a very rare while, she will actually take the initiative and initiate the conversation herself, delving into her own dreams and sexual fantasies. Those conversations have led to some of our hottest sex. But normally Lucy acts demurely, rarely adding her voice to my vocal narrative.
Don’t get me wrong — I don’t need Lucy to tell me her fantasies in order for me to get off. I even appreciate a silent night of lovemaking, where you can lose yourself in the sound of skin on skin, your partner’s breathing, the sudden catch in their throat when you touch them right there.
All of this is to say that I have made my peace with the fact that Lucy simply isn’t as comfortable revealing her deeper desires.
So it came as something of a surprise one evening when we were in bed together, and Lucy put down her magazine and said, “I think I’d like to try shibari.”
“What?” I said.
“Shibari. It’s the Japanese art of rope bondage.”
“I know what it is, Lucy. I just didn’t know that you knew what it was! This is the first time I’ve ever heard you mention it, let alone express a desire to try it yourself.”
Lucy’s expression changed to a concerned look. “Does it freak you out?” she asked.
I realized that my response wasn’t exactly encouraging. But I had been caught unawares. I tried to recoup.
“I’m not freaked out at all — I think it’s awesome. It’s just a bit unexpected. What attracts you to it?”
Lucy put a hand to her chin. “Well, I first learned about it in an article I read a few weeks ago, and my mind keeps returning to it. I think I’m most drawn to the idea of trust — that shibari requires having absolute trust in one’s partner. When you are completely immobile, with no way to escape, and the only person who can release me is the one who has tied me.”
“So you want to be the one tied up,” I said.
Lucy smiled and looked down. “Yes,” she said. “That’s the other part of it. With that sense of trust, maybe I can open myself up to exploring some of my fantasies.”
I rolled toward her and held her in a close embrace. “Well then, I guess I’m going to have to learn how to tie some knots!”
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The shibari kit arrived in a discreet package containing a long coil of hemp rope, special safety shears, rope oil, rags, and an illustrated how-to guide with instructions on various ties and harnesses.
A cursory glance at some of the later pages made me realize that it would be a long time before I tackled any of the advanced stuff. But that was OK. I had grown up in a family of sailors, so I knew my way around slip knots and half hitches.
I started with the basics, practicing single column ties on my leg and double column ties on my own ankles.
Quickly I learned how much give to allow the rope, figuring out the right tension. My practicing made me deeply familiar with the rope’s material. The hemp was soft, but with a satisfying heft to it. It felt substantial.
I kept Lucy apprised of my progress. “Even though we aren’t trying anything too difficult—I’m not suspending you from the ceiling or anything—I want to be 100% sure that I know what I’m doing so you are completely safe.”
By the end of the first month, I was ready. Lucy and I set a date for that Saturday. We took the boys over to her parents’ house for the night.
“What are your plans?” her mom asked.
“Oh, not much,” Lucy answered. “Just some time to reconnect.”
Lucy’s dad winked at me.
Back at our house, I laid the sections of rope on the living room floor and went through each step of the ties in my head. Lucy and I had decided on a diamond chest harness, along with a lark’s head double column tie for her wrists. The harness part was a bit complex, so I hoped I was up to the task.
Lucy gave me a nervous kiss and told me she was going up to change. “I want to wear something equal to the moment,” she said.
As she walked upstairs, I realized I was nervous too — not just about whether my ties would work, but about whether this entire effort would provide Lucy with what she was hoping for. Since I was only practicing basic ties, and not the total body restraint that advanced shibari practitioners could provide, would Lucy miss that feeling of total submission? But no matter how it turned out, I knew she loved me and we would make anything work. Heck — even if my ropes were a total disaster, it would be great fuel for humor.
I felt less nervous just as Lucy came down from the bedroom. She was wearing a dress I had never seen before, and she looked incredible — a shimmering, silvery vision, a dream descending the stairs. When the evening sun shone on her through the window, she sparkled like a waterfall in the gloaming.
“It was a splurge,” she confessed. “I haven’t bought a nice evening dress since the boys were tiny, and we have that wedding in the city next month, so I thought maybe I could try it on tonight?”
“You look absolutely stunning,” I said.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, I could see the dress in more detail and saw why she thought it was apropos: it was made of hundreds (thousands?) of thin strands of metallic-looking fabric, all draping the curves of her body — almost like rope. The dress clung to her figure, and as she turned toward me in the light, from close up, it was clear that the dress was the only thing she was wearing. Her bare skin peeked through gaps in the fabric.
Lucy had done her hair up so the soft, pale skin of her neck was exposed. She wore no jewelry. The dress was all she had; at least, that’s what I thought until she lifted her hand to show me a black silk eye mask.
“For a blindfold. I think it will add to the experience.” She turned her face up to kiss me. I held her close.
“Thank you for indulging my fantasy,” she whispered.
“I am so honored, and deeply in love with you right now,” I told her.
Lucy ran a finger from my chest to my crotch. “Not turned on?” she asked, playfully mocking. “You’re about to tie up your beautiful wife. I would’ve thought you’d find this opportunity at least a little bit sexy.”
I moved my hands down to her hips, then reached around to give her perfect ass a firm squeeze.
“Oh, don’t you worry. I am definitely getting aroused.”
Lucy squeezed my crotch through the front of my jeans and smirked. “We’ll have to deal with that later. Let’s get started.”
She moved to the center of the room and took a few deep breaths. I had some music playing softly for ambiance — Miles Davis’ Sketches of Spain, which felt like the right tone.
My ropes were ready.
“Are you going to wear the dress?” I asked. I was a bit worried that the tight ropes would damage the material.
Lucy answered my question without a sound, slowly reaching behind her back to unhook the clasp that kept the dress on, then subtly twisting her shoulders and hips until it cascaded softly around her, leaving her perfectly naked in front of me. Her chest rose with each breath. She shivered, then looked in my eyes and whispered “I love you” before putting the sleep mask over her eyes.
I took up a length of rope and began tying the chest harness first, wrapping it across her breast bone and over her shoulders, down her back and under her breasts, following each turn and tying each knot as I had practiced, adjusting the tension to provide what I felt was the proper tautness.
All along I asked her if the rope felt okay, making sure she was feeling fine.
“The rope is tight, but not too tight,” she said. “I want a bit of discomfort; I think that’s the point. I can feel the weight of the rope on my skin. You’re really binding me. And the fact that I’m blindfolded, this darkness — it’s getting me excited.”
I noticed a hint of glistening on her pussy.
When I finished the final knot, I stepped back to observe my handiwork. “Oh, wow,” I breathed, as I could fully take her in now that I wasn’t preoccupied by my knot tying.
“What is it?” Lucy asked.
“You are fucking beautiful,” I said. “And your breasts — they’re simply spectacular.”
I have always loved Lucy’s breasts, from the B-cups she had when we were first dating to the D-cups they became after motherhood. Over the 20+ years we’ve been together they have kept their shape — and their prominent nipples. But tonight the harness accentuated them even more, forcibly pushing them up and out in a way that bordered on uncomfortable, but managed instead to be unbelievably hot.
Lucy pushed her chest out farther. “I can feel it. The rope is forcing my tits out, isn’t it?” She reached a hand up and gently touched her nipple. They were as erect as I’d ever seen — two prominent dots at the end of twin exclamation points.
Lucy lifted her other hand and continued to play with her nipples, tentatively touching them, caressing them, tugging on them as though she were feeling them for the first time.
“Oh, this feels electric,” she whispered. “I could come just touching these.” Her legs quivered.
I stepped forward and gently but firmly took hold of her wrists, pulling her arms straight out in front of her.
”No,” I commanded, taking as serious a tone as I could muster. “You can’t come until I say you can come.”
Lucy smiled, and I could see her eyebrows go up under the mask. “Of course, sir. I will do your bidding.”
I reached out and pulled softly on one of her nipples. Lucy gasped. I picked up the final lengths of rope.
“How do you want your arms tied? In front or behind?”
“In front, I think?”
I completed the lark’s head tie more quickly, binding Lucy’s wrists together in a couple of minutes. There was a fair bit of rope left over, and I held it like a leash. Her hands were securely bound, and I held the reins. We had gone over all of the safety and consent issues addressed in the manual, so we knew we could explore this experience comfortably.
“How does it feel, knowing that you can’t get out of this until I let you out — if I even decide to let you out?” I asked.
“I’m in your control,” she said.
“Maybe I’ll just keep you like this,” I teased. “Maybe I’ll walk you downtown tonight and parade you past everyone eating at the sidewalk cafes on Linden Street. They’ll see those inch-long nipples coming a block away.”
“Oh, God,” Lucy said.
“You like that? You little slut. You want me to show you off? This rope binding your smooth, pale skin, your tits sticking out with those bright pink nipples, and your round ass and bare pussy there for everyone to see? People will know you don’t shave down there.”
“Oh, fuck,” Lucy moaned.
“You want that?” I asked. “I bet you do. Tell me.” I pulled sharply on the rope and Lucy stumbled forward.
“I do,” she whispered.
“Louder.”
“I do!”
“Tell me exactly,” I commanded. I took the loose end of the rope and started to spin it.
“I want —”
SMACK! I slapped her ass with the end of the rope.
“Ow! Oh, yes!”
Lucy continued to talk as I punctuated her description with quick slaps of the rope on her ass.
“I want you to lead me downtown – OH! – I want people to see me like this — naked, and – UNH! – totally exposed. I want our neighbors to say ‘That’s Lucy from next door,’ and our friends will see my tits – OH! – and my erect nipples – OH! – and my bare ass and my pussy, and they’ll see I’m a natural redhead. And everyone will be scandalized and when they go home. They’ll say ‘Can you believe it?’ And then they’ll fuck each other like they’ve never fucked before.”
I reached forward to caress Lucy’s wet pussy, running my finger through her folds. She moaned again.
“I want our couples friends to see me. I want Kathy and Bob to see me. I want Margaret and John to see. I want you to show me off to everyone we know. I want all the guys to be jealous that you can own me and use me like this, and I want the girls to feel the power of my sex deep in their own pussies.”
Lucy’s legs continued to tremble, and she took little mincing half-steps around the carpet.
“I want to be your whore. Your concubine. Your courtesan.”
I slapped her ass one more time, then tugged on her nipples. I reached back down to caress her wet pussy again, this time pushing my index finger deep inside her sex. She gasped and quivered.
“My cunt is so wet,” she moaned.
“Aren’t you a little slut?” I said. “Quite the exhibitionist. Well, lucky for you, I have a moral compass, so I’m afraid we’ll be staying home tonight.”
Lucy chuckled softly, but part of me thought I detected a hint of disappointment in her laugh.
I led her over to the landing by the stairs, then walked up several steps and wrapped my end of the rope around the handrail, leaning over to watch her as I pulled it up, slowly and gently lifting Lucy’s arms over her head until they were stretched above her but she was still able to stand securely. Then I walked upstairs.
Lucy called up after me. “Hello?” I didn’t answer, and she didn’t call up again. I knew I would be quick.
I went into the bedroom and pulled open Lucy’s underwear drawer to grab the small vibrator she kept there. Heading quietly back downstairs I could hear Lucy’s heavy breathing over the soft strains of Miles Davis’ “Saeta.”
At the bottom of the stairs I turned to admire my wife. With her arms stretched up and bound to the bannister, it forced her to arch her back, tightening the ropes and pushing her chest out even more.
I looked at the vibrator in my hand, then at her bare breasts, thrust out toward me and beautifully framed by the rope harness.
I smirked, imagining the sights and sounds of pleasure I was about to get from her.
To be continued in Part 2 next week!
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