“You got the rest of those ropes in your bag?”
“So maybe you could put them on me?”
“Maaaaaybe, since that’s your thing…”
“One of my things, yes.”
After some more smooching and spanking, I went to put tape on and we met up in the opposite corner of the room, the same corner where all of the Cute Master shenanigans too place last time.
It’s hard to put into words the feeling of unrealness that followed me throughout the night—I’d wanted to be here with him over the summer, wanted it so badly that I’d always been terrified to ask. The difficulty of asking for something is often proportional to how much I want it—a silly and counterproductive habit I’m trying to break. So Saturday night, although I was an entirely present animal, I felt like I was walking through a fantasy as well—a fine feeling for a pretty series of scenes.
I hadn’t even thought about having ropes on since Sweetie, it seemed like one of those deep things that might make me get attached. But all I felt as he sat there unwinding and sorting his shiny cream-colored ropes was glad anticipation—there’s a reason it’s called play. I think I’m done with ruling out things based solely on the idea that they might get me attached—it can’t be predicted and I think I can trust myself to decide from moment to moment.
After I made a comically awkward attempt to go over his knee, (One thing the Regular Dungeon really needs is couches.) he instructed me to kneel at his feet. I put my arms around him and he spanked. I don’t remember any pain, though there must’ve been some. He pushed my face down close to his crotch and held it there, gently forceful. (Which reminds me, pal, I’m pretty sure blow jobs aren’t what makes me fall in love…) While I was still kneeling between his legs, he started a rope corset. I loved the smell of him and the softness of his hands grazing my waist and back. Instead of going into a ropey trance like sometimes happened with Sweetie and others, I got more awake and more brazen.
He had me stand so he could work the ropes better, and in the process of standing I accidentally backed into another rope scene that was happening on the bench perpendicular to us—and look who it was! The rope top girl with her cute boy and pink rope who’d so inspired me last time. I apologized for backing into her and she said it was enjoyable. I told her how much I’d liked watching them last time and informed her that we should be friends forever.
It’s occurring to me that I should stop giving SG a hard time about being incorrigible—I am certainly getting there!
I kept chatting them up while Steampunk Guy focused all the way on the corset. The rope top girl complemented my boobs and I told her she could touch them absolutely any time. She got up and, one hand still tethering her boy by his blue-rope-handcuffed wrists, copped a feel. I think that’s the first time she kissed me, too, easy as if she’d been doing it for years, as if she was just naturally entitled. It just turns me on so much when people act entitled to me.
At another point during his corset-making, I decided that SG and I should catch up on some high-fives, since we’d missed so many over the past two months. The rope top girl joined in, showing me a tattoo on her wrist that simply said “Awesome.” If that’s not a sign that my life is on the right track, I don’t know what is.
As he was putting the finishing touches on the corset, I spotted Winggirl One across the room and remembered that she was supposed to be first, and I know how stinky it is to have to wait, so I asked SG if we could pause the ropes for me to go and give her the what-for I’d promised. He agreed but kept winding and weaving the rope, and when I started to wander off he yanked me to him by the rope at the center of my middle, and I bubbled over with glee, jumping up and down like the ridiculous girl that I am.
My idea was for him to help me beat her up, but for whatever reason it didn’t work out that way. She was at the corner of the bar, not really looking like she was waiting for anything. I grabbed her by the hair and led her over to the corner. Part of what she’d asked me to do was convince her to get as naked as I was, but she needed no convincing, stripping down to her sheer black panties and pretty pink and black embroidered bra. She was bolder than last time and chose a kneeling bench close to the center of the room.
I had a lot of aggression to let out, and she let me. She helped me to figure out how to give her the thuddy spanks she wanted, coached me when I got to stingy. We had to pause for a moment so that the auction items could be announced (It was starting in a few minutes. I had donated a painting and the idea of watching it get auctioned felt much more vulnerable than any of this…) but when I started up again I just lost self-consciousness and whaled on her until she stopped me. I gave her a kiss and a hug, asked if she was okay and she was, except she had to remind me that she doesn’t love wedgies the way that I do. Ohno, sorry lady!
I ran back over to Steampunk Guy, worn out but warmed up from the spanking, ready and excited for more ropes.
Next: Just like in the dream.