Page 26 of Bound By Words

He was how I’d initially met Grace. After avoiding her for ten years while I threw myself into the community, I eventually relented and did a scene with her when she was in a pinch during one of her showcases.

She’d known about my Switch tendencies and my rope skills and sweet-talked—well, as sweet as Mistress Grace ever got—me into trying to rope model for her.

Emory was one of the few rigger Doms I trusted to tie me, so it’d been a new experience with her. One I’d been trying to shake ever since. I’d modeled in educational workshops for some other local Dommes, but they didn’t cause the same sensations I felt when I was in a scene with Grace. She got under my skin no matter how much I wanted to deny it.

G: You’re going to be late.

Nathan: I apologize. Coming in now.

G: Change of plans. Report to the suspension set right away. I’ll talk to you once you’re dressed.

Well, that was new. Grace tended to present scene lists and discussions in her remote office, much like I’d assume she put together presentations in her boardroom on the thirteenth floor. She was the HBIC (Head Bitch in Charge) of a commercial real estate firm and owned the entire office building. We’d never gone into a scene together blind.

Her regular employees had no idea that a portion of the bottom level of the building, off the loading dock, housed an expansive set of offices designed for her to hold local kink showcases and run her side gig as a Dominatrix for hire. She would mentor a select few in the scene for the right price. While Emory and I gave our time freely to local kink education when we were available, Grace leveraged her experience into a lucrative extra source of income.

If any of her regular employees knew about her extracurricular activities, she slapped an NDA on them so fast their heads had spun. Much like hers had when she discovered I was the project manager on that portion of the building while it was under construction.

At first, I hadn’t known if her desire to get me to rope model for her had been a way to keep me quiet or if she was interested in me.

Most of the sexual relationships I’d had with other kinksters had been while I was in the Dominant position. My relationship with Grace was no different. Almost two years into our arrangement, my dick had never been in her orifices. Not that I hadn’t fantasized about cramming my cock into her mouth to muzzle her. But that was a fantasy neither one of us would ever allow to happen. While she was a beautiful woman, I wasn’t attracted to her like that, and I think she liked the chase. If I gave in to her, it’d be less exciting, and she’d have to find another rope bottom.

NATHAN

Boston

The lights were dimmed in the main salon area when I let myself into the carefully camouflaged door with my digital key card. It looked like any other boring office complex waiting area when it wasn’t full of scantily clad men and women and all the other excesses Grace liked to indulge in at her parties. She never allowed drugs and rarely allowed alcohol, but everything else was fair game.

Grace was nowhere in sight as I punched in my personal door code, the electronic deadbolt disengaging for the rigging set. It was impressive, and with my knowledge as a rope top, it’d been fun to tie an industrial feel to the room along with a concrete reinforced suspension grate that ran the entire ceiling length. The leather bed in the corner was made with blood-red sheets, but I noticed a pile of items next to the bed with my name neatly scrawled across the card in her sloping cursive writing.

Soft music came through the overhead speakers as I picked up the note, fingering the leather quick-release cuffs on top of the pile.

Naughty Nate,

You’ve been keeping things from me. Cuffs and cage on. Wait for me on the settee on the stage.

Mistress G

Shaking my head at her cryptic message, I quickly stripped down, pulling on the leather cock cage she liked to put me in when she was feeling particularly sadistic, and pulled a loose set of mesh athletic shorts over my hips. She’d seen me naked before, but they made me feel safer, so I wasn’t quite so exposed. It also prevented rope chafing in some sensitive areas I preferred to keep unmarred. I was a big guy, which meant my weight created deeper marks where the weight suspension was concentrated on the ropes.

The floor was cold as I crossed the room, stretched out my arms, and arched my back as I settled onto my knees in front of the settee she wanted me to lean on when she started. The heavy pulley and rigging rope were already hanging above my head, so I knew she was planning to suspend me completely, but I knew she liked to work me into a scene.

Wireless earbuds, a loose silk gag, and a blackout eye mask sat on the soft velvet. Grace was nothing if not a prepared rope top.

Popping the earbuds in, I closed my eyes, leaning forward onto the cushion at my chest. The gag wasn’t enough to cut off my speech, just enough to convey that I would not talk during this session. While some of her other ‘pets’ wore studded collars and had ball gags in their mouths, she’d been accommodating of my refusal to wear such items. I was often surprised at her willingness to bend her desires to accommodate my needs. She was manipulative sometimes but was typically respectful of her subs. At least outside of a scene and what they’d consented to.

Soft instrumental music played while I waited, my forehead leaning against the soft velvet before me, and my posture relaxed. The leather cuffs sat beside me on the cushion, waiting for her to put them on.

She didn’t leave me waiting for long, the hair standing on my neck as a sharp pinch started at my shoulder and carried on down my back. I’d felt it enough times to know it was her nails scratching across my skin, the sharp points leaving a trail of sensation in their wake. I was still and quiet as she grasped my wrists and fastened on the leather cuffs loosely, just enough that it gave the illusion of restraint but not sufficient to cut off any circulation.

Her fingertips trailed over my back, tugging on the waistband of my shorts, the cool air rushing in briefly as she ensured I’d put on all the items she’d left out for me.

“We’re going to start with some impact play today. Do you consent?” she asked as the soft tails of her whip trailed down my shoulders.

Pushing the gag out slightly with my tongue, I nodded and said, “Yes, ma’am,” through the soft material.

The music in my ears changed slightly, a seductive pulsing beat starting as the first hit of the whip across my shoulders made me jump slightly. I held my posture still as she continued, striking me as the song’s chorus swelled and then using her warm hands to rub out the sting.

Endorphins flowed through me as she continued, and I struggled to keep myself calm, my cock twitching against the confines of the leather straps it was buckled into. Part of me was glad I was blindfolded because I typically had difficulty containing my arousal when combined with the image of her in full Dominatrix attire.

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