He rose early this morning and was dressed and ready to leave before I was even awake.  He sat on the side of the bed and gently woke me with a kiss, waiting as I rallied from my sleep.  We are both morning people but last night I had been tired.  After a seemingly endless week at work, sleep still had it's grip on me.  I remember he said he would be back later and that he left something for me.  At least I think that's what he had said but what I remember most clearly was his eyes.. All rope and no hope was what they said to me.

I was still half asleep as he left but my mind had begun to reel with questions.  Did I read the look on his face right?  What had he left for me?  Why didn't he stay in bed with me?  What errand was he on?  Did I miss something last night?

Sleeping was impossible now with my mind a buzz.  I rose and headed for the bathroom and a long and welcome shower which cleared the last of the sleep from my mind.  I dressed in jeans and a shirt and made my way to the kitchen.  As I  considered what I might have for breakfast, I found the envelope.  It was sitting on a chair in the middle of the floor where it could not be missed.  "Do not open till noon" was written there.

Is it possible to frown and smile at the same time?  Wait till noon!  Three hours to consider what was in the envelope!  A method he has used before and I always end up bound and in a most disheveled condition!  "The bastard" I muttered even as I grinned from ear to ear.

Three hours passed in a frenzy of housekeeping activity and speculation.  I was so lost in though that when the stove timer in the kitchen, the alarm clock in the spare bedroom and the portable timer all went off, I was startled.  As I ran through the house shutting off the buzzing alarms, I had to laugh at how he had surprised me again. 

Quiet restored, I went to the kitchen and opened the envelope. 

No greeting, no salutation, just straight forward directions.  I was to proceed naked to the point of land on our property which juts out into the pond behind the house. It is well shaded in mature trees and an all together excellent choice for being outdoors on this bright, hot, humid day.

At the back door of the house I took off my clothes and proceeded to the point. Once there, I found another note with several coils of rope on the pad covered picnic table. There is a thrill of anticipation which runs through my body at the thought of what's coming. I am filled with willingness, desire, trepidation and craving. His look was relentless this morning.  I take the new note, read the directions and proceed.

I take a ten foot length of rope and use a tether knot to fasten a similar length to each ankle. He has told me to do it that way and that means in some way he plans to take a strain on my ankles. My mind considers possibilities as I fumble with the tie and have to concentrate to do it properly. The tether must be done right or the rope will pinch. Already a shudder of anticipation of my forthcoming helplessness has run through me. Concentration on the rope work requires hard to muster focus.

I kneel on the pad in the center of the picnic table, cast the loose ends of the ankle ropes off to the sides and begin the crotch rope I have been told to tie. Around the waist with a thick rope tether, knot at the back, then down and through and up the front, through the waist rope and back down to lay the loose end on the table behind me.

Hands folded in my lap and directions completed, I wait. I realize my heart is beating fast and there a sheen of sweat on my body. The heat, the humidity and the anticipation have all had there effect on me. Be still the note said, be still.

So I try, try not to think what he will do with the ropes, try not to think of the feelings within, try to shutter my brain. Slowly stillness comes over my body, the anticipation like a hot stone within me that I ignore. Still enough now that the sweat evaporates from my body and I can feel the cooling effect.

I wait with my eyes closed in a turgid haze, still, quiet. It occurs to me he is out there waiting for me, knowing the struggle to be still that I wage within. Then finally so still my head bows and my mind is quiet. I smile, a last gush of surrender, somewhere out there he knows and smiles.

I first become aware of him with the last footsteps of his approach, then his words, be still, then his touch upon my cheek. It is a test and I do not move, my heart races, the hot stone of anticipation within me tumbles to a rush of craving which racks my body with a quiet shudder. But I remain otherwise still except to lean into his caress with my eyes still closed.

He tells me to extend my arms straight out as if to form a cross and he slowly wraps a rope four times around my chest and below my breasts. He then takes my arms at the wrist and folds them against my back with my forearms touching and parallel. The rope now makes four more turns about my chest but this time my upper arm is included in the turns of the rope. The rope ends meet in front and I can feel the knot being tied between my breasts. It pulls the two chest wraps together and in the process compresses against my breasts. It occurs to me that none of the bindings are at all tight and this can only mean there is more to come.

Always there is more. Always in such a tie there is a plan, a tension yet to come. He has seen my energy in spite of my stillness and willingness. This is not going to be some simple inescapable tie. It will be much more than that. With a shudder the realization strikes my brain and he sees it.

He moves to the top of the picnic table behind me and begins a simple wrap of rope around my forearms at the middle of my back. There is no need for a rope on my wrists for even though it would seem I could simply pull my forearms out of the loop he is tying, I cannot do so because of the rope around my chest and upper arms. So simple, not very tight, but very effective, a Japanese style arm restraint that always means more is coming.

The heat of my need and anticipation and the feel of the ropes has disturbed my stillness. There is a need to squirm and test but he knows this and now leans against me gently from behind, touching sensuously, and talks to me. A hand upon my inner thigh and he tells me he knows of my need. He traces where my hip and thigh join and tells me to be still, his hand moves across my stomach and he tells me he can feel the moan harbored there, his hand rests upon my solar plexus and he tells me to release the moan. As the moan makes it way upwards his hand moves over the ropes on my chest and rests gently upon my throat as the sound escapes my lips.

Then both hands move to my thighs and he tells me of the shudder I am holding back. His fingernails follow the same path across thigh, hip, stomach and chest but then move to my nipples as the shudder rushes through me.

Then, when all this has been done and the last tremor has passed, he tells me to be still, be still. And I am.

I can feel a rope being threaded through the loop on my forearms, then around the upper chest rope, then the lower chest rope, then back around the upper chest rope and ending at my forearm loops. Tied there, I can feel all the ropes at my back are linked now and to tug on my arms pulls on the chest ropes. Action and reaction.

My eyes are still closed, I am still, I hear him moving about and then feel another rope being tied to my forearm wrap. There is no change in the tightness but something has been done and the feeling of anticipation grows within my stillness. Then his hand is upon my chin and he lifts my face to meet his gaze. Open your eyes he says and with a struggle I do. First with eyes cast down, then slowly raising my gaze to meet his. And hers! My heart races with the effort, my mind whirling with the vision, my body willing but alive with an energy and sensations now.

They look directly at me and see my energy, the motion I have been holding back. I feel their power and my powerlessness. I see in their eyes that they know what my mind craves and the wanton desire that is barely suppressed now. He releases my chin and a shudder passes through my body as I push out against the ropes he has placed upon me. My heart begins to beat faster and my breathing picks up.

Just then there is a firm pull on the crotch rope which has lain quiet for so long. It pulls backwards and upwards at the same time, sinking deeper within my cleft. I lean forward to reduce the pressure as her hand adjust the rope in my most intimate region. The shock of the rope and her touch has left me still, near breathless, leaning forward and kneeling.

Then another tug and I feel the loop of rope on my forearms pulled forward and upward. My arms lift from my back but are restrained by the rope about my upper arms and chest. Everything tightens, my body leans further and pulls against the crotch rope which pulls in the opposite direction. Action and reaction, I test my position as my heart races and the sweat begins to coat my body. Lean forward to relieve my arms and shoulders and the crotch rope tightens. Lean backwards to relieve the pressure on the crotch rope and my arms are pulled up and away from my body and my shoulders strained. Forward, backward, bend down, sit up, all have their pleasures, all have their strains. I cannot stay in one place for long, the strain demands movement.

THEN MORE. The long forgotten ropes on my ankles are pulled simultaneously and my calves and ankles no longer rest under my thighs. My ankles have been spread and pulled away and my body drops downward without their support. Now everything is tighter, the crotch rope, the shoulder strain, the forearm lift. There is no slack, there is only my efforts at movement to trade strain and pleasure.

My eyes are open but unseeing, the air comes in gasps, one shudder is soon followed by another as I struggle to adjust to no avail. A flurry of squirming, the pleasure alternates with the strain, never enough strain to hurt, never enough pleasure to climax.

It goes on, and on, and on. Futile struggle, move up, down, forward, backward. Lift with my thighs till they can take no more, collapse to the nagging pleasure of the crotch rope and the strain on my arms.

No end, no hope, relentless, mindless motion of pleasure and struggle that goes on and on and on. -

They watch, they plan, my mind folds in upon itself.