I tug at my lip with my teeth as both men ogle me. “Where do you want me?”
“A flirt,” Gabe says.
Calvin chuckles. “I told you he was.”
“Is that a bad thing?” I ask.
Both men seem to consider my question. My heart races as I wait for one of them to answer.
“No,” Gabe says after a moment’s pause. “You need to tell me what your safe words are before we begin.”
“The kink clubs I’ve been to use a traffic light system. Is that okay?”
“Red for stop, yellow for slow down, and green for everything’s okay?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be taking photos the whole time.” Calvin stands and picks up his camera. “Of you, of the ropes, of Gabe as he works. Then I’ll take several photos when Gabe has finished tying you. Are you good with that?”
“Yes.”
Gabe beckons me over to the hanks of rope. “I use linen hemp.” He puts a hank into my hands so I can feel the texture. “Natural fibres give the rope more grip, so the knots don’t slip.” He takes the hank back and lays the end over my wrist. “I chose the palest rope I have. I never bleach it because it can make the fibres brittle, which isn’t good if I want to suspend one of my models. The rope looks good against your skin, doesn’t it?”
He’s right. It looks stunning.
“As for where I want you…On the fur, please.”
I walk over to the blanket. It’s only then that I realise it’s been laid over something. As I step onto it, my bare feet are tickled by the fur, but they also sink into something squishy beneath. My best guess is foam, which will be kind on my knees if he asks me to kneel.
Please ask me to kneel.
My first instinct is to lie down.
“Stand,” Gabe says.
My body rewinds itself until I’m standing, my arms limp at my sides. I’m not sure what to do. This isn’t a normal modelling job where I can strike a pose and stare into the camera. Calvin hooks his camera up to the flashguns. In the corner, Ivy carries on working, not watching us at all.
“Remember to talk to me if you feel worried about anything,” Gabe says as he unwinds some of the rope. “I’m going to start to tie you now. Okay?”
“Yes. Green.”
He cracks a smile. “Good boy for remembering.”
I suck my lower lip into my mouth as his praising tone washes over me. I’ve never been called ‘boy’ by a man before, but I like it. A lot.
“I’ll need to touch you.” Gabe’s voice is low and soothing. “If I touch you somewhere you’re not happy with, let me know.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll need you to keep some tension in your body,” he tells me.
I nod in understanding.
“All right, then. If you’re ready, I’ll begin.”
“I’m ready.”
Holding the rope in one hand, Gabe draws my right arm behind my back. I try to bend my elbow, but he eases it straight again with the flat of his hand before rotating my wrist so my palm is facing outwards. He does the same with my left arm, crossing my wrists. Gently, he tugs them down, drawing my shoulders back until my knuckles graze my arse cheeks.
