There are some experiences in life that shape us forever. They change how we think, how we feel, how we relate to the world around us. And sometimes those experiences are so intimate, so profoundly raw they can change everything you ever knew about yourself.
Kneeled naked on the edge of the bed, a full wall mirror ahead returns the reflection of a woman naïve and innately exposed. Physical exposure, the naked woman looking back at me by all accounts was familiar. I know her curves, her flaws, her skin. But looking into those eyes looking back at me I see her. Curious, reserved, submissive, ...she is bare. She has not only stripped away her clothing but left laying on the floor with it lies her fear, her distrust, her control.
I am meeting her for the first time. The girl she was before life changed her, before society judged her. The girl before the heartbreaks of love hardened her. She is much more pure than I imagined her to be. I am saddened to only be meeting her now but as I ponder that thought perhaps this is how we were meant to come together. Had I met her through anyone else, in any other way I am not so sure I would see her for the beautiful soul that she is.
I kept my eyes on hers through that glass as he worked his way around the room. He was calm and at peace with his work. Seeing him so involved, completely engaged in his preparations could only make her smile. We were so at peace, so completely unreserved and forgiving to this experience. He broke my view of her as he stood in front of me, holding loosely in his hand loop upon loop of braided utility rope. Was it his fantasy or was it mine? He took his hands upon my face, leaned in to kiss me and in slightly more than a whisper he asked, 'Are you ready?". "Yes, I'm ready".
Looking back, I can so vividly remember the way he moved around me. It was the sexiest I had ever seen him. He was gentle and cautious yet determined and in demand of control which I was all too willing to give to him. Placing the rope around my neck he began the first knot. As he worked that nylon cord I studied him. His face, he was so intent. I could tell it pleased him to prepare my body and his pleasure only excited me more. The first knot was not an aggressive one, a tight one intended to choke me. It was secured just below the base of my throat, like a noose I could easily slip over my head if I so wanted to. The thought never crossed my mind. This first knot set the stage for the others to follow, each knot carefully twisted and tied in a manner he had spent the entire week studying.
This wasn't just about being tied up and having sex. And I suppose for some, that's exactly what it would look like. But no, it was so much more beautiful that that. I began a love affair with that rope. The feel of it against my skin as he would slowly feed it through the bind he was creating. It would send chills of anticipation through me. It was not the soft braided rope intended for this purpose, it was unrefined and raw, bare basic rope which suitably matched the girl in the mirror; bare, unrefined and raw.
He would at times break from his intense concentration to be sure I was okay. With every knot, every twist, every loop he took care of me. He was taking great pride in preparing his canvas. I cannot tell you how long he spent creating this intricate design, a beautiful diamond zipper pattern down my chest and up again through my back, then binding my arms as his final piece of work. Time had no measure. "Do I look pretty?", I asked? "Yes, you look pretty".
Kneeling naked on the edge of the bed, a full wall mirror ahead returns the reflection of a courageous woman. In being bound she broke free from her inner bindings. Encased in a beautiful cocoon spun by a lover who claimed her as his own that night, she was about to emerge a woman who knew no bounds. Strong, confident and free. As for him, he may have only had her that night...but forever they were connected... by the ties that bind.