Tied in trust : a beginners dance

[Co****]

The dimly lit room hums with anticipation. I’m new to this, heart racing, but there’s a thrill in not knowing what’s next. She’s across from me, her eyes gleaming with a mix of mischief and surrender. “Show me the ropes,” I say, half-teasing, my voice steady despite the butterflies. She smirks, holding up a coil of silky rope, her fingers brushing mine as she hands it over. “Only if you say ‘please’ first,” she murmurs, testing my switch side.

We start slow, the rope sliding over her wrists, each knot a promise of trust. I’m learning, guided by her soft gasps and the way she leans into the moment. But then, she whispers, “My turn.” In a heartbeat, the dynamic flips. A blindfold slips over my eyes, her breath warm against my ear as she teases with an ice cube, trailing it down my neck. The cold sends shivers, but her voice—calm, commanding—grounds me. “Good boy,” she says, and I’m hooked, lost in the push and pull.

We play with power, with roles, trading control like a dance. A teacher one moment, a student the next. I’m new, but I’m all in, craving someone to explore this electric world with.

[Ou****]

I can relate.