Page 136 of Rut Bar

Tsking, I tap the end of my rope against her sticker. “Careful, sweetheart. Or I’ll take your star away and you’ve only just earned it. Now be a good girl and hold still for me.”

To start, I bring my rope across the top of her chest and around so it’s running from the side of her neck to her other armpit. Her lungs expand as the rope slides across her skin. I come around to her back and tie a quick-release knot, then bring the tail around her rib cage and cross it over the other side of her neck, hitching the two together and weaving them between her shoulder blades until the first part of the tie is taut and symmetrical.

I run my fingers along her neck, checking her. When I notice that her nipples are hard peaks, I pause to stroke them and palm her breast. Either she’s cold, or she’s enjoying this more than she thought she would. “Not so bad, is it?”

“No.” She fingers the rope, inspecting it. “It’s kind of like a hug.”

“A hug. Yes, that’s the perfect way to describe it, sweetheart. My rope is an extension of me when I’m tying you. It’s my will made tangible. It’s my arms wrapping you in a hug.”

I bring the two strands of rope back to the front of her chest harness, tying a half hitch on one side and framing her breasts as I cross it over from the top of one to the bottom of the other. I hug her for real, dipping my nose into the hollow of her throat as I bring the rope around her to the other side again and weave it around and up, hitching them again until the rope makes a diamond above her breasts and everything’s symmetrical once more.

“Is that why you like it? The control?” she asks.

Her question makes me think as I come to her back again, securing the tie and bringing the tails of the rope down to the lower strands under her breasts where I tie a clove hitch. There’s not enough rope left to make it around to her front again, so I weave the ends into a flower knot on her back. A pretty knot for my pretty girl.

“I enjoy the control,” I admit. “As well as the aesthetics. Highlighting all the things that make you so beautiful. Leaving my mark on your skin.” Leaning forward, I press a kiss to her bare shoulder and run my hands over the rope digging into her softness. “I could make you come from my rope alone. Put a knot between your pussy lips and pluck the rope so it slides against your clit. I wouldn’t have to touch you. Wouldn’t have to fuck you. You’d come on my rope, your juices soaking into the fibers and making it softer than before.”

Reaching around her, I tug her against me and rub my hand down her front. Over the knots in the rope. The divots they make around her breasts. I slide lower and sink it between her legs. Her core throbs against my hand as arousal makes her pussy plump. Spreading her lips apart, I slick two fingers between her folds and graze her clit.

“Already wet for me.” I let her go, leaving her teased. I take the sticker sheet from my back pocket, peel a gold foil star from the backing, and slap it onto her inner thigh. “That’s my good girl.”

Knowing she’s enjoying this, that I’m the first one to tie her, makes me want to hurry, but I force myself to go slow. To savor this. The first time of many more to come. A lifetime of this.

She watches me go to my bag and grab another length of rope, uncoiling it and finding the center. I add it onto the knot at her back and wrap it around her, letting my fingers graze and torment her more as I lift her breast to start the next diamond underneath it. Rather than keeping the pattern going, I stop at two and tie it off, then fetch another length of rope. A thinner, softer one which I’ve been conditioning for weeks.

Looping it around her waist, I make it snug, then tie two lark’s head knots and finish it all with a half hitch and let the excess dangle. At her pussy, I nestle it between her labia and bring it around.

Once I’ve pulled it snug and winched it at her back, she sucks in a breath, but says nothing. Smirking, I double back and pull the ends through her waistband, splitting the ropes and tucking everything into place where another half hitch knot ties it off.

One after another, I layer half hitch knots until the front of her crotch rope is thick and strong. She’ll need it. When it’s at the perfect height, I split the lines again to make sure it’s forming correctly.

“That’ll do. Are you ready for your present, sweetheart?” I ask her.

“Yes?” she answers, confused.

It’s Anthony who rifles through my tool bag and brings out the vibrator. It’s huge—the alpha models always are—with large, simulated balls that give it a sturdy base.

Anthony holds it up, turning it in the light and measuring its girth with his hand. “It’s a knotting one, right?”

“It is.” I take it from him and show them both. “The remote control is in the bag. I charged them both yesterday, so it should be good to go. I think he’s going to love this.”

“Holy shit,” Veronica says, looking from the vibrator to Jamie, who’s still bound and gagged on the floor. A pretty present for our special girl. She’s finally figured out her bonding gift. “Hurry up and put it on me.”

“So bossy,” I chide her, taking the vibrator and remote control from Anthony. I press the silicone cock against the rope strapped tight between her labia and click the on button.

She gasps, her back straightening, as the vibrations travel down the rope. God, I love rope. Real rope made from actual fibers. Hemp, jute, cotton, and silk. A lot of people use synthetics for genital ties, but I prefer real fibers. Once it’s properly conditioned and worn, it’s smoother and safer than synthetics. Rope made from plastic feels silky smooth, but it chafes the skin with friction. But hemp? Hemp sings. The only rope that’s better for intimate floor work is silk. My omega deserves silk, but today she’ll make do with hemp.

“Naughty girl. Be patient. Unless you don’t like the rope after all? Do you want me to untie you? We can stop.” Because I don’t tolerate brats. Anthony likes to play his little game of forcing submission from her, but I like my sweet girl obedient. I hit the function button, so it changes from slow vibrations to pulses. I show her what she’ll be missing.

“Fuck! No. I like it. I want it, please. I’m sorry.”

Chuckling, I click the remote again and turn the fake cock off, then pry her pelvis ropes apart and slot the vibrator into place. I tie a few more ties to keep it secure and then I use the remote to test that its knotting function still works with her rope harness holding it in place.

When the silicone knot swells to a girth that’s almost double the size of the cock, she touches it reverently. It’s not the largest model they sell. It’s not even as big as Jamie or me. But on a tiny omega, the thing looks enormous. Obscene. Another push on the remote deflates the knot and I return my attention to Jamie.

“Are you ready, boy?” I ask him. “We’ll see if you can come from a prostate massage alone before we put that cage back on your cock.”

Jamie nods and his cock bobs uselessly in the air, a drop of pre-cum splattering against his bare thigh.

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