It's after midnight when we finally get there. An afternoon meeting, some dinner, drinks and a walk around town. Looking at the neighborhood, admiring some of the dated architecture. When I finally unlock the door to the hotel room, everything has been discussed. Earlier I we even held hands for a while, but now I withhold mine. Not to create distance, but to create tension.
You know we passed through a gateway when this door locked behind us. The door takes us to a place where the rest of the evening is trivial, all the distractions are gone. Just you and me now. And the new jute rope tightly coiled in my suitcase.
I spent a long time yesterday preparing it. Taking the two hundred foot length and precisely cutting it into more useful pieces. Fifty feet. Twenty five feet. Each with a purpose carefully planned. Long ones for binding the thighs, and fastening them to the legs of the bed. Shorter ones for details, or wrapping the forearms. I seal the ends, and make tiny ties of thread on each so I know which length I'm using. Even in the dark.
Each length has a plan. You have given yourself to my use tonight, and everything I do will give that decision it's proper respect. I have control now, but I don't take it lightly.
Even now. You are still fully clothed as I unpack my things, and I say nothing. I leave you to stand, unsure, and let this tension grow. To make you feel vulnerable. But soon I'll reassure you. Not that you'll know what is going happen next, but that you will know that I do. And you will give yourself to that. You will see this uncertainty is unnecessary, because I am certain. You will see that your vulnerability is just a conduit to letting me have control, which you crave. When I have you nothing outside this door matters.
I stand up and face you. I begin to undress you, slowly. Shirt, slowly pulled over your head. I need to direct your arms a bit, so I do so with a light pressure. I reach, behind you, undoing your bra, bringing my face close to yours, but not touching it. I pull back a bit to look at you. My eyes are on your beauty, but also measuring, assessing.
I unbutton your pants one button at a time. One hand goes in, rubbing your cunt lightly. The other goes to trace you, from behind your ear, slowly down your neck, between your breasts, and down your side to finally hook into your jeans. I pull them down, still saying nothing. When I get them to your ankles, a few rough kisses go to around your panties. It scratches a bit, I haven't shaved since yesterday. Down come the panties. I need you naked for me. I could tell you to do it. I could order you to strip and watch you from the corner chair. But I want to do this. I take both your hips in hand, and step you out of the pile of clothing you have shed. Now, I'll speak. Break this long silence.
"Get on your knees."
You do it. I look at you, face tilted down. Ready for whatever I ask.
"Unbutton my pants."
You do it. My cock falls out, halfway ready. Face down you sit on your knees and wait for me.
"Put me in your mouth, and get me hard. Do this slowly."
You do it. You slowly run your lips up and down me, and I become harder. You reach up and grab my sack, and play with it a bit. It's very nice, but I didn't ask for it. Time for a bit of light discipline. I put my hand on the back of your head and stop you. Pull myself out of your still open mouth, then tilt your head up.
"I didn't say you could use your hands. Nod to show you understand."
You nod.
"You do exactly as I tell you, nothing more, nothing less. Say yes to show you understand."
"Yes..."
"Good."
