Page 171 of Body and Soul

A sturdy metal frame dominated the center of the room, its crossbeams adorned with carabiners and pulleys. Thick padded mats were laid out beneath it, promising a soft landing.

I stepped further into the room, my eyes wide as I took in the array of ropes and rigging equipment. My heart began to race with a mix of excitement and nervousness. I'd never done anything like this before, but the thought of being bound and suspended, completely at Shepherd's mercy, had my cock stiffening in my already too tight shorts.

Shepherd came up behind me, his hands settling on my hips as he pulled me back against his solid chest. “I want you to strip and kneel for me.”

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy.” Shepherd pressed a kiss to the side of my neck just above the collar before stepping around me. He began to methodically remove his suit jacket and roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

I licked my lips at the sight of all that gorgeous dark hair dusting his strong forearms, but when he shot me a look, I hurried to unbutton my shorts. I could feel Shepherd's eyes on me as I pushed down my tight pants and stepped out of them. At his instruction, I’d forgone any sort of underwear, so I was completely naked underneath.

Shepherd's eyes raked over my body, hot and possessive. “Beautiful,” he murmured and lifted a leather riding crop from where it had been stored on two hooks. He pointed to the padding on the floor. “Kneel here.”

I knelt on the thick padding where Shepherd indicated, carefully adjusting my posture the way he’d taught me before. I could feel Shepherd's eyes on me, appraising and intense, as he circled around me. “Very good. You remember your safe words, yes?”

“Yes, sir. It’s Icarus, Sir.”

He dragged the tip of the crop up the center of my chest, applying just enough pressure to dimple my skin. “I want you to be proud of your submission to me, Eli. Never be ashamed of what you are, of what you need.”

The crop continued its journey upward, the supple leather tracing the line of my throat before catching under my chin. He tilted my head back with the crop, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I want you to repeat after me. My submission is a gift.”

“My submission is a gift,” I echoed.

“And my body is a temple to be cherished and worshipped,” he continued. “I trust my Dom to care for me and push me to be my best self.”

I licked my lips and repeated the words, a strange knot of tension loosening in my chest.

Shepherd smiled, a rare, soft expression that made my heart flutter. “Good boy.” He trailed the crop down my cheek in a fleeting caress before stepping back. “I'm going to bind you now. I want you to remain in this position until I tell you otherwise.”

“Yes, Sir,” I breathed, already sinking into that floating headspace I loved so much.

Shepherd moved to the wall of ropes, considering them for a moment before selecting several coils of deep burgundy. The rich color stood out against his skin as he wound the rope around his hand, pulling it taut between his fists.

He circled behind me and I had to resist the urge to turn my head to watch him, remembering his command to stay still. Dark and ethereal music began to play from speakers hidden aroundthe room, the song a familiar progressive metal band that I’d often listened to while drawing. The music wrapped around us, drowning out the world outside that room until there was nothing but him, me, and the rope that connected us.

I felt the whisper of rope against my skin a moment before Shepherd began to wind it around my chest in a complex pattern of knots and loops. The rope was soft but strong, hugging my body with a constant, reassuring pressure.

Shepherd's hands were sure and steady as he wove the rope across my skin, each brush of his fingers sending sparks of electricity through my nerves. He worked with the focus and precision of an artist, crafting an intricate tapestry of knots and lines that covered my torso in a diamond pattern that framed my chest and abdomen.

I let myself sink into the gentle, reassuring pressure of the ropes, my mind floating away on the hauntingly beautiful music and the hypnotic pull of the ropes against my body. It was like being caught in a spider's web, but instead of feeling trapped, I felt free and beautiful. Each knot and loop was a physical manifestation of Shepherd's care, his ownership of my body and soul.

As the last notes of the song faded away and another started, Shepherd secured the final knot at the small of my back. “How does that feel? Too tight anywhere?”

I took a shuddering breath, forcing my mind up out of the pleasure haze enough to check in on my own body. “No, Sir. It feels perfect.”

“Good.” Shepherd's hand smoothed down my spine, his touch electric even through the barrier of the ropes.

Shepherd hummed in approval and picked up another length of rope. This one was a deep sapphire blue, the color vibrant against my pale skin. He doubled it over and wrapped it around my bicep. Creating a series of loops, he artfully wove the ropedown my arm before pulling my arms behind my back and lacing them in place there. When he’d finished binding my arms behind my back, he went to work on my legs, tying them up at unfamiliar but not uncomfortable angles.

Each pass of the rope was equal parts a caress and a cut, breaking me into smaller and smaller pieces. I sank deeper into my mind, the world narrowing down to the sensation of the rope against my skin and the sure touch of Shepherd's hands.

With each knot and loop, I was unraveling, all the tangled knots of fear and self-doubt loosening in my chest. It was as if Shepherd was weaving a new pattern over my scars and insecurities, transforming them into something beautiful, cherished, worthy of love.

I floated on air, my thoughts dissolving into an abstract watercolor of sensation and emotion. The fibers of the rope were a soft embrace as Shepherd remade me in his image, transformed me from nothing into a priceless work of art. A languid sort of desire simmered under my skin, present but not consuming, warming me from the inside out.

The song changed again, the haunting strains of the vocalist's voice intertwining with strings and piano. It sounded like the soundtrack of a dream, and I let myself drift on the music, my mind detaching further from my body, which now belonged completely to my Dom.

“Look at you,” Shepherd murmured, reverence in his deep voice. “My beautiful boy, so perfectly wrapped up for me.”

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