"These'll work." I took them, ran the silk through my fingers. Soft, smooth, no rough edges. Ideal for a first time.
I set them on the dresser, turned to face her. That king-sized bed with its soft linens dominated the space.
"Ground rules first." I kept my voice calm. "Red means stop immediately—I untie you, we're done, no questions. Yellow means pause—we check in, adjust, but can continue if you're okay. Green means you're good, keep going. Understood?"
"Understood."
"At any point you feel uncomfortable or scared or want to stop, you use red. Don't push through because you think you should, or because you're worried about disappointing me. This only works if you're honest about your limits."
"Okay."
"What are your hard limits? Things off the table?"
She thought about it. "Pain. I don't want to be hurt."
"Agreed. This isn't about pain—it's about surrender and trust and pleasure. Anything else?"
"I don't know what else to say."
"That's fine. We'll figure it out as we go. But you use those safe words the second something doesn't feel right." I moved closer. "Now. I'm going to touch you. If you don't want this, tell me to stop."
I reached for her. Ran my hands up her arms, across her shoulders. She shivered but didn't pull away.
"Take off your shirt."
Her hands went to the hem. Pulled it over her head to reveal a simple cotton bra underneath—pale pink.
"Now the pants."
She shimmied out of the yoga pants. Standing in front of me in matching pink cotton, goosebumps rising on her skin.
I picked up the scarves, moved to the bed. "Lie down. On your back."
She climbed onto the mattress, positioned herself in the center. Her pulse raced at her throat, her breathing quick.
"Arms above your head."
She lifted them. I took her wrists gently, brought them together. Began wrapping the first scarf around them in a figure-eight pattern—not tight enough to hurt or cut off circulation, but secure enough that she couldn't slip free. The silk slid smoothly against her skin. I used the second scarf to tie her bound wrists to the headboard, tested the knots.
"Pull against it. Make sure you can't get free."
She tugged. The silk held firm but gave slightly—enough flex that she wouldn't panic, not enough that she could escape.
"Good girl." I dragged my finger down her arm, watched goosebumps spread. "Now. You don't move unless I tell you to. You don't come unless I give you permission. Understood?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
Her breathing stuttered. "Yes... sir?"
Desire shot through me, settled low in my gut. "That's right. Now lie still."
I started at her wrists. Ran my fingers down her arms, across her collarbones. Watched her fight to hold still, her body wanting to arch into the touch. Skimmed down to cup her breasts through the cotton, felt her try to press into my palms.
"Don't move."
She froze.
