Page 68 of Complete Me

“Yes.” There’s only the slightest hint of impatience in the word, and I let it go because he’s very clearly eager to begin.

“Fine. How bound do you want to be for this first time?”

He looks at me, expression blank. “I don’t know. What are my options?”

I consider how much rope I have. “We’ll stick to the basics since you’re new to this, and we don’t really know how you’re going to react to being bound. Based on that, and the amount of rope I have, I’ll tie one area. That means I can bind your legs or your arms. Or I can make a harness on your upper body.”

“Harness? Like, for a dog?” He’s wide eyed and looks unsure, so I quickly reassure him.

“No. Not at all. Harnesses in shibari are usually done for suspension, but we’re not doing any of that today. We don’t know how you’ll react to being bound, and I want to be able to untie you quickly if you have a negative response. If you’re suspended, that adds time to getting you free from the ropes. And you’ve said you don’t think that’s something you want to do, anyway. But, if you find today’s practice helps you, and you decide you’d like to try suspension at some point, we’ll get your doctor’s okay first. We’ll also need to make sure we have a rig that will support your body weight. But a body harness, when not used for suspension, is more of a woven shirt. It covers some to all of your torso, depending on the pattern, and can be purely decorative. I’ll take care not to go too low with it. We don’t want to put pressure on your scar.”

There’s clear relief in his eyes, and I wonder what he’s been looking at to make him that concerned. “For the record, I’m not completely green on the restraint front. I am a cop. Was. I was a cop. Damn. That’s gonna take some getting used to. But anyway, I’ve done the handcuffs thing before. In and out of bed.” He waggles his eyebrows at me, and I snort. “It was fun as a now-and-then kind of thing. And I’ve had my wrists and ankles tied to a bed with neckties once, but I could have gotten free if I’d really tried.” He considers for a moment. “I think I want to try the halter thing. With my arms against my chest.”

Nodding, I stand. “We’ll use the ottoman in your room. That way, you can sit and be comfortable, and I can freely walk around you.” It would also be close to the bathroom, so if Bjorn wanted to, he could take a shower or soak in the tub after. “You haven’t been working out lately because of your injury, but typically, what do you do for workout recovery?” Knowing what his body is used to after a strenuous workout will help me know what he might find soothing after being bound.

Bjorn points at Pita and uses his command voice. “Pita. Stay.” Pita emits another disgusted huff but doesn’t move as Bjorn leads me out of the living room and up the stairs. “Normally I do stretches and drink a ton of water. I’ll have a banana or an orange and wash it down with a post-workout protein shake. I take a hot shower, then eat.”

He waves me into his bedroom and closes the door behind us. I raise an eyebrow. “Are you expecting someone to possibly walk in on us?”

“We don’t need Pita coming upstairs to investigate.”

Good point. “What’s your safeword?”

“Spawn.” That makes him chuckle, but as long as he can remember it, I don’t care that he finds it hilarious.

“If you ever get too fuzzy to remember it, you can always say red or stop. I’ll be checking in with you frequently to make sure you’re alright. Be honest with me.”

Bjorn sighs dramatically. “Yeah, I got it. Tell you if there’s any discomfort, and don’t keep things to myself.”

“Good. I’ll be using hemp rope. It will definitely leave marks on your skin. The indentations will fade after a little while, but you might have rope burns, too, or a rash. If that happens and it’s bothering you—”

Bjorn cuts me off. “Yes, tell you.”

“Tell me.” I pick up the three foot by two foot leather ottoman and set it in the middle of the room. “Please undress down to your boxer briefs, and sit.” Bjorn pulls off his clothes, and I head for my duffle, pulling out two lengths of hemp and the safety shears. When I return, he’s sitting patiently, a hopeful grin on his face, and I can’t help smiling back. “You’re ridiculously excited about this. I hope it doesn’t disappoint.”

He shrugs. “At the very least, I can say I’ve been tied up with shibari rope. What did you call what my job is?”

His job. Like he’s being responsible or performing an invaluable function. I wonder if he realizes how telling his word choices are. “When it’s for a performance or instructional session, it’s called a model. When it’s for personal play, it’s called a rope bunny or rope bottom. I prefer model or rope bottom, depending on circumstances.” That earns me a filthy chuckle. “Behave. There are a few last things before we start. When I untie you, you might have a kind of floaty feeling.”

“Subspace.” Bjorn watches me like a hawk ready to strike, all keyed up with energy. “I read about that.”

“Good. And yes. It’s a normal thing that happens to some, but not all, people. And it’s not just associated with kink. Some people can experience subspace after yoga or deep meditation. So don’t be alarmed if you’re a bit out of it after. Though that probably won’t be the result of today’s play. This is going to be relatively short and hopefully sweet.” I put two ends of one rope together and pull it through my hand to find the middle. “Besides your injured side, are there any other areas of your body you’d like me to avoid? Anything you know is injured or triggers a negative response?”

Bjorn shakes his head. “Not that I know of. But I promise if something doesn’t feel right, I’ll tell you.”

I nod. “Good. And finally, the purpose of this session is relaxation. Finding peace in being truly still. But if it’s not working for you, or if it’s having the opposite effect, tell me, and we’ll stop. We can try something else another time.” I look him in the eyes. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

I wrap the first loop around his wrists and feel the hyperawareness kick in. Everything is in sharp focus. The pattern I’ll weave is clear in my mind. Fisherman’s harness. A bit higher than usual to account for Bjorn’s injury. “Be aware as you breathe. Focus on inhaling from your diaphragm, filling your lungs, holding the breath for a few beats, then exhaling, releasing all the tension in your body. That’s all I want you to do.”

When I’ve wrapped his wrists together, I secure them with a myrtle hitch and gently guide his hands up against his sternum. I place the rope over his shoulder, trailing my hand along the hemp to maintain contact. Stepping behind him, I pull the rope diagonally across his back. His breathing is slow and steady, and while he’s more tense than I’d like, he’s less so than when we started. “Good. You’re doing well.” I bring the rope over his bicep and around to his front, tighten it over his forearms and across his other bicep until I’ve completed one full revolution around him. With practiced fingers, I secure the rope and tug the excess until it’s snug. “How’s that?”

“Good.” His voice is alert but even. His energy level has decreased several notches, and I’m even more hopeful that this will be the help he needs to calm and center himself. With focused attention, I make another revolution around him, one hand feeding out rope, the other keeping in contact with Bjorn’s body, quietly letting him know I’m here. If this was a demonstration or a typical session, I wouldn’t be touching him so much. But I want him to be aware of me, of where I am and what I’m doing, so he stays calm. When I’m once again at his back, I secure the rope in place and complete the process two more times, keeping my pace measured, staying in physical contact, listening to his steady breathing. “How are you doing?”

“Still good.” This time his voice is soft, almost sleepy.

I check his body language and facial expression, looking for any signs of distress, but his features are passive, though his eyes track me. He’s aware and not in any visible discomfort. “The rope isn’t too tight?”

---