Shibari: Almost a Love Story

Had she just given me permission to let myself feel? Had I conned myself?

She shattered all possible attempts at thought by licking my right nipple.

I cried out again before I consciously understood what the sensation was.

She sucked on my nipple I way I had sucked on hers and it had a similar effect. More effect, to be honest, since I had less experience at receiving that sensation than she did.

Normally, I have to struggle to lie still and receive pleasure, holding onto something solid so I don't give in to the temptation to turn the tables and take charge.

In Ella's ropes, with my mind already happily shed of all agency, my muscles tensed and spasmed but my consciousness just bathed in the pleasure.

With a lingering kiss, her mouth left my nipple and I hung, panting,

Then, when I was half-expecting her mouth to close over my left nipple, I felt warm wetness on the head of my cock.

That was a sensation I did remember, even if the most recent memory was two years old.

But it wouldn't be too far off the truth to say that didn't matter -- unless she told me to resist, to try and hang on, it simply wouldn't have occurred to me, and didn't.

I received all the pleasure she gave me, unfiltered and unsuppressed.

It was incredibly liberating.

She fellated me without her hands, not even touching any other part of me. Simply her mouth, moving over my shaft with her lips pressed around it, her tongue moving against and along and sometimes around, and the gentlest light brush of her teeth.

She moved slowly, smoothly, taking her time, not hungrily, not as a prelude to anything else, but for the sake of the act itself.

It was teasing, caressing, tender. Instead of the incredible, intense, focused pleasure she gave my nipples, her mouth on my cock was soft, gentle, light, and made me melt.

It lulled me so effectively I didn't even realise until perhaps the third or fourth time that she would, at random intervals, take me into her throat and brush her nose against my belly -- even her tongue against the base of my balls.

I didn't hear any gasps or feel her force herself or spasm close to choking, and she was moving too slowly for any wet noises.

The realisation she was deep-throating me came with a sense of mild surprise, wonder, and then deep, deep gratitude.

After taking me deep, she might withdraw almost all the way until her tongue could stroke the tip of my cock, she might withdraw halfway and give me some long, slow strokes. She never released me entirely. She never touched me with her hands.

I have no idea how long she had my cock in her mouth and in her throat. Time simply ceased to have any meaning as I hung suspended, tension on my chest and my ankles and my hips and my neck and my shoulders but everything eclipsed by the sensations on my cock.

It felt like no time at all until I was close to cumming, but then I hung there, feeling exquisite, bright, almost-burning, almost-torturous sensations, for a long, long time.

It might have been the moment, it might have been my mind unable to properly interpret the sensations anymore, it may simply have been that she was exceptionally skilled. It did not matter. It was her skill, either way.

Then I was close to cumming, then past the point of no return, and my mouth almost moved to shape the words but my sense of her total control over the situation made me feel that warning her was not necessary. Then my body was moving, speaking for me, until with an entirely inarticulate gasp I was cumming into her mouth, pumping as her lips remained around my cock, her mouth not sucking firmly but enough to let me know she was swallowing.

I could not count how many times I spasmed. It might have been three, it felt like 30.

Then I stopped, gasping for air.

She did not.

She continued, her lips and her tongue and the lightest brush of her teeth moving over my cock and I was gasping, lungs sucking in bursts of air as the sensation was too much, too sweet, too good, almost painful.

But not too much, not quite too good, not quite painful and, although I almost cried out, almost said it was too much, as my mouth opened wider, my tongue forming around the first syllable, the sensation did not push me over that edge, keep me teetering on the lip of that explosion, and ...

I acquiesced.

I stayed mouth gaping wide, shuddering, gasping, as she continued fellating me, continued teasing and taunting my cock and bathing it in her warm, wet, tender mouth.

Until I came again, with a guttural groan that time.

For a long, timeless moment she kept my cock in her mouth but not moving. Then I felt her suck, felt her tongue explore, before she pulled back.

I felt almost bereft but filled with too much gratitude and awe to feel any negative emotion.

My eyes were too tightly closed, a sense of whole-body exhaustion sweeping over me, to see Ella step in front of her, so I felt her hands on my head, then her lips against mine, slightly salty, all comforting. Not giggling, not smirking, not taunting or gloating but entirely tender.

I returned that kiss with what felt like the last energy in my body.

She didn't untie me immediately, leaving me to hang for a little while.

When she started, she undid my hair first, then my wrists, then my arms, helping me lower them, massaging and making sure I was not in pain from holding the position. I was, a little, but it felt earned, satisfying and rewarding. Then she untied my legs, then my ankles, lowering them to the ground, then slowly lowered my hips before removing the harness.

Finally, she lowered me all the way, into a kneeling position I managed to hold because she asked me to, without feeling I had the bones to do so, as she untied the harness from my chest.

As each rope left me, I felt a sense of loss, of boundaries dissipating, until there was just a small spark of identity in a body that was so much amorphous gelatin.

Then Ella knelt beside me, put her arms around me, and pulled me back against her.

I fell against her chest. As her arms gripped me in a new form of constraint, of boundaries imposed, my awareness expanded back out into my body.

"Good boy," she whispered as she held me. "Good boy, Phelan. I've got you."

I drifted back into the body and sense of self I knew, still floating too much to really think about it or direct any attention towards it.

She continued to hold me and I slowly drifted back into awareness as though my concentration, my attention, my sense of place and time and situation, were drifting back from a cloud surrounding my head.

At one point, I realised my arms were lying slackly by my sides, and I moved them to hold hers where they wrapped around me.

"How are you doing, Phelan?" she asked.

"Good..." I managed to say.

"I've got you," she whispered, stroking my arm gently as she continued holding me.

A little while later, I almost felt a click as I finished waking up.

She must have felt me move.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, tenderly.

"As if every dopamine receptor in my brain had a party and I came," I said.

I felt silent laughter through her body against me. "Was that a double entendre?"

"I hope so, it was supposed to be."

She chuckled audibly, that time.

"How did you do that?" I asked.

"Lots of practice, relaxing, and not doing anything to trigger my gag reflex," she said after only a moment's hesitation.

I really should have been expecting that.

"I meant -- and don't think I'm not very impressed and equally grateful -- how did you make me feel like that?"

"Hmm?" she asked, without letting go.

"So sensitive. I've never had that much pleasure from my nipples, before."

She was silent for a second. "I probably just gave you permission," she said. "Or, you told yourself that was what you should be feeling. As a girl."

I absorbed that. It was probably right. After a little too much hesitation, I said so.

"And was it good?" she asked.

"Um... yes! Yes, it was! Thank you!"

She chuckled. I felt it through my back. "No regrets? No uncertainty? No feeling of lingering dysphoria?"

I made myself think about that, running my attention over and around and through my body. "No," I said. "Not more than the general vague sense of lack of gender identity I usually have. No, my body feels like my body."

"You have a very neat trick available to you, there," she whispered in my ear. "Don't waste it by not using it."

I chuckled myself. "Oh, I won't! If you'd be happy to join in."

"Oh, I think I can safely say I'd be happy to do that to you any time," she murmured her arms moving so one hand could roam over my chest again. "Girl or boy."

I sighed happily.

"What are you feeling now?" she asked, stroking my chest lightly.

"Your breasts, under your kimono," I felt compelled to say.

She chuckled and groped my chest. "You can play with them later."

"Promise?"

"I'll rephrase that: You had better play with them later."

Then she slapped a hand decisively on my upper chest, where it made a solid thumping sound. I felt a sinking feeling I knew what she would say next.

"Are you back with me?"

"Yes," I said, grudgingly.

"Can you move?"

"Can..."

She chuckled again. "Alright, on your feet. We can cuddle more later."

"Promise?"

"Promise! Are you hungry? We should think about dinner."

"Oh? What did you have in mind?"

"No idea, yet," she said. "Come on, put your kimono back on, then you can help me coil these ropes."

She released me and moved away, on her knees.

I looked down at myself. "Oh yes, I'm naked."

She gave an explosive bark of laughter as she started coiling the first rope.

# ~ # ~ #

We raided the fridge and cupboards and grabbed handfuls of things and ended up with something that probably could have been glorified by being called a salad, if we had felt like it.

The day was still warm despite the sun plummeting past the horizon with Queensland suddenness, so we returned once more to the verandah. I made sure I didn't accidentally flash anyone on the street, as I curled up on the couch.

"How many ropes did you use on me?" I asked.

She grinned. It looked a little sheepish. "Well... most of my spares," she said. "Worth it, though!"

"Thank you," I said, deliberately gravely. "I'll replace them. You can't give me all those as a present."

"Well, OK," she conceded.

I unlocked my phone.

She waved her fork at me. "Later. Tonight, tomorrow, whatever."

I shrugged and went back to eating.

"Now: Important stuff," she said. "Was there any part of that you weren't entirely comfortable with?"

"Oh, God, no."

"How I touched you? How I spoke to you? The position, how long you were hanging there?"

"No, it never got uncomfortable. I feel fine now. Nothing is complaining."

"Fantastic. Making you come twice wasn't too much?"

I had to laugh. "I thought it was going to be! I almost said something. I almost had enough conscious thought to say something, but I just... went with it. How do I even start thanking you for that?"

"You don't, pretty girl, because I decided to because I wanted to."

"Even so..." I began.

She waved me to silence. "So... The only time I will let someone come in my mouth is when I have them entirely in my power and I just desire that level of intimacy with them. I don't even think of it as coming in my mouth, swallowing just feels like part of the intimacy, part of how close we can be and how much it's my power to make you feel good."

I had to process that. "OK," I said, nodding slowly. "I can appreciate that. But not during normal sex?"

"No, then it just feels disgusting. I'll blow you and deep-throat you if I like you enough -- but never, ever throat-fucked -- and make you come, but you're coming on yourself."

I nodded.

"First time I swallowed, I was tying," she continued. "I had him trussed, I decided I wanted to play with him a bit, and I just got caught up in the moment as much as he was, not losing attention but too focused on how much he was just helplessly blissing out, and I wanted to swallow him because it just felt right and so meaningful in the moment. So, I found out I liked it under that circumstance."

"Point of interest, for completeness..." I began.

"Yes, I have tried it under normal sex. Didn't like it. Decided not to. Don't," she said, not emphatically but definitively.

I nodded.

"So," she said, with her mouth full, "you haven't looked at your photos yet."

She was grinning at me.

"Holy shit!" I scrabbled for my phone. I had forgotten about them entirely.

Then I hesitated. I tapped on the gallery app but passed the phone to Ella. "Put it on the first one, I don't want spoilers," I said.

Grinning, she did so and passed it back.

I stared at the screen.

There were progress shots. There were several progress shots, at several stages, beginning with me hanging from the chest harness while still wearing pants. I hadn't remembered hearing the sound of the shutter. I hadn't even noticed every time Ella stepped away for long enough to take several shots from different angles.

"I don't remember you taking any of these," I said.

"Lost in the moment," she declared, before taking another mouthful.

I scrolled through images showing me from the back, side, front. I hadn't noticed her taking photos from the front. I went from hanging with my feet resting on the ground, to hanging in the arch, and the breath caught in my throat as I remembered the sensation, but also from how I looked, supported but arched up in a curve from ankles all the way through to my arms above my head and my hair pulling my head up. My face looked as though I had already come. My cock hung beneath me, almost erect. Then in the next photo, it was erect, hanging long but not thick, in proportion to the rest of me.

I wondered if that was after she had told me I was fuckable. I felt an echo of the erection, looking at the photo. And the next few.

"Fuck me," I breathed.

"Do you like them?" Ella asked.

"They're fantastic! I want to frame some of these!"

"You know, most people I tie keep one or two photos of themselves," Ella said, sounding amused.

Then I scrolled through to the last photo. There was just one. Clearly, it was after Ella had fellated me. It was from a front quarter, showing my face and my wilting but glisteningly wet cock.

It struck me so powerfully that I couldn't look away for a little while. In the photo, I looked so utterly spent and utterly... dominated. But blissful.

My reaction shook me.

"Are you OK?" Ella asked.

"Oh, I think I'm better than OK," I said, quietly. I turned my phone around to show her the screen. "I think my reaction to that photo is a good part of what I was looking for when I knew I wanted to be tied."

I dropped my phone on the couch next to me and gave myself a few seconds to settle my thoughts.

"I need more of that," I said, picking up my fork again.

Ella just smiled at me.

For a minute, we were quiet.

"So, where are we?" Ella asked, breaking the moment.

"Ah," I said, after swallowing. "The serious discussion."

She nodded. "The serious discussion."

"I really want to investigate this rope bunny side of myself more, whatever it means, whatever part of me it is," I said. "And, for a lot more than purely selfish reasons, I would like to see what else we might have between us. With or without sex. I meet very few people I get along with easily and quickly, so: Friend?"

"I should laugh," she said, pointing her fork at me, "but I know exactly what you mean. Yes. Friend. If we can't be that, we shouldn't be having sex. If we can, I would rather like, for purely selfish reasons, to fuck more. At the very least, I still want to get you inside me, and I do not mean just your fingers."

"You've had me inside you. Deep," I pointed out, deciding that if she was going to be that blunt, so was I.

"In mah belly!" she said, making a vigorous chopping motion towards her groin with her hand.

"Promise me you'll never say that again, and I promise to fuck you any way you'd like," I said.

She grinned wickedly. "How do you feel about strap-ons?"

"Operative phrasing fuck you," I said, straight-faced.

She scowled. "Don't get pedantic with me, boy."

"I'm an editor, it is literally my job."

She stared at me. "You are?"

I stared back. "Have we not talked about that? Did we just skip several steps of introductions?"

"No! Yes!"

"Oh. Yes, I am."

"OK," she said, settling back into the couch.

"But yes, I would be interested," I said, concentrating on getting my next forkful.

"What?"

"Yeah, I started exploring butt plugs about the same time I started exploring ropes," I said with a full mouth.

Her face lit up. "Really? Any goals?"

I swallowed. "Pegged in suspension."

"Oh, you are on!"

"So: Not precisely dating, but we meet for ropes and sex?" I asked.

She nodded emphatically. "Ropes and sex."

I parked my fork and held out my hand.

We shook formally before Ella had to giggle again.

I kept a straight face as I returned to eating.

"So, just checking: I'm sleeping here tonight?" I asked.

"You are sleeping here tonight."

"In your bed?"

"In my bed. If I snore, you may wake me up and spank me," she said.

"Ditto," I said.

"Good," she said.

Then: "And I'm guessing you're not going to be lending me pyjamas?" I asked.

"Ain't going to be nothing covering you except me or the doona, my pretty boy," she said.

"Good," I said.

"Or girl," she offered.

"We'll see," I said.

# ~ # ~ #

Later, Ella suggested streaming something, but I was feeling so drained from a day of intense physical and emotional ups and downs that I wouldn't have been able to concentrate.

"Bed?" she asked, sympathetically.

I stretched. "Bed would be wonderful. Bed and the more cuddling time you promised me."

She leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Absolutely," she whispered. "However you'd like it."

I looked at her sideways, unable to deny that the closeness of her body and her kiss were making me feel warm and fuzzy but determined to take every piece of joy I could out of every possible double entendre. "However?"

She grinned at me. "I meant big spoon or little spoon or mutual, but I'm up for anything you are."

There was no eroticism in Ella's movements as she shucked off her kimono, hung it up and then climbed into bed, just self-confidence. Which was much more erotic than any posing could have been.

I, who had been tied up naked, photographed naked, played with and then offered more of the same, felt self-conscious.

But I managed to hold that at bay and climbed under the covers as Ella reached for me to pull me into a tight embrace.

We lay there for perhaps five minutes, just blissfully skin to skin, before we both realised that I was, in fact, up for something more.

Ella chuckled as her fingers began roaming over my skin. "Do you have enough energy?" she whispered as I moved my head to kiss the nearest available patch of skin, in the crook of her neck. "I can ride you."

I twisted, flipping her onto her back and pinning her to the bed with my growing erection squeezed against her groin. As she yelped with surprise and then moaned in pleasure, I managed to grab her wrists and press them to the bed above her head.

"Oh no, you're not doing all the work," I murmured, as I continued kissing her neck and cheek. "You just did that."

She chuckled. "Oh, I don't mind."

"I do. I feel an immense unfulfilled obligation that will ruin my whole day if I don't repay it."

She moved underneath me, rocking her hips against my erection. "It's hardly an imposition," she murmured.

I shushed her with my lips against hers, and she was prepared to kiss for a little while as I held her hands in place.