It starts out slowly sitting with her wrists lovingly bound. Snap, the click of the shutter startles her the first time.
They've tried bits of this before, but the plan today is much more... restrictive. Snap.
She craves how he looks at her when she's tied, the intent look of a stalking courser. She craves to be deliberately paralyzed and then pounced on as his prey. Snap.
He guides her hands behind her back and ties her wrists together. She mews at that low familiar burn, as he cinches it against her silky skin. Snap.
The confines of rope snaking up her arms, immobilizing inch by inch, the slow fuse lit, searing as it goes. Muted panic incites an unquenchable thirst within her. Snap.
Just below her shoulder, the jute is snugly led around from arms fastened behind her, across her chest. Snap.
The cord merely brushes against her breasts at first. He moves it just so the roughness of the roaming strands deliciously graze the hardened hot glowing coals her nipples have become. She purrs and whispers, "Tighter." Snap.
Around and around her chest, tracing her ribs, binding her pert supple breasts. His every move bringing her ever closer to that blissful paralysis, but in her mind, each loop, each bond, bringing her closer to him, to her prize. Snap.
She's breathing faster now. Is it arousal? Is the rope restricting her chest, lungs unable to fill fully? Those thoughts thrill and consume her as her mind levitates in this sweet world of belonging. Snap.
The heat is building deep within her, pouring out of her skin, ignited by the restraint. Even each imprisoned breath is moving her bonds just enough to exquisitely heighten her desire. Without warning, he stops. Snap.
Hidden behind the lens of the camera he looks at her with a hunger that no earthly meal could ever satisfy. Dark desires masked by a gentle smile, he breaks the humid silence by pressing the shutter again. Snap.
Looking up at him, she finds the look that melts her- the one she covets so. Unable to move, the ligature a surrogate for his embrace, she can feel him gaze into her very essence. She wants what is inevitably coming, the anticipation transcendent. Snap.
Movement again, but no words are spoken as he cradles her, safely securing her as he gently lowers her, toying with his catch until she's face down on the bed. His embrace imprinted on her flesh and deep within her mind, too fleeting a feeling, now absent. The bonds remain, always. Snap.
"Up on your knees, my love," he orders firmly. "Oh my, yes," he gasps just loud enough for her to discern his looking at the trophy within his reach. Snap.
Stray rope now put to purpose, tied from her back, to the side of her neck, diving under ever lower. Lovingly fastened to each rung of rope until it's snug against her lowest of lips. She trembles as it writhes against her. A single solitary droplet forms as her anticipation and need are unable to be contained within. Snap.
He repeats it with the opposite side of her neck and opposite lip, yet the anticipation is greater for her, now knowing what is coming. Nonetheless, she's surprised as he errantly slips the rope between her petals. Each sliding braid coercing a growing tremor within, before he glides it into the correct position, coating the cordage and smearing her nectar, alighting a friction fire. Snap.
The combined effect of the ropes on either side of her pussy, rubs the folds against each other and against her swollen nub. It's just enough to drive her mad, but not enough to get her there, and he knows it. Lips glisten in the perfect golden beams of sunlight of the waning day. His movement pushes a current of air that cools the drooling lips, sending a shiver down her laced spine. Snap.
He gently repositions her legs, lewdly wide for the penultimate shot. She still has control of those extremities but chooses to cede it all away to him. Trust earned over years between them, yoking their hearts together. Her submission, the rigging of the lanteen that's always led her to the calmest of waters even in the raging tempest of her current desire. Snap.
Every tiny contraction, the slightest hint of action, further driving her unceasing, throbbing need. They are both at the end of their respective ropes. His final twist, a rosette from the remaining lanyard length secured atop her swollen nub. Every constrained breath, every twitch, every heartbeat felt consummating his art. He steps back, admiring his canvas. His shapely wife and the exquisite shibari combine to make something much greater than its parts, something sublime. He ravenously smiles. This art, his masterpiece, his life's work, his quest awaiting fulfillment submitted before him. Snap.
