The rope has been lying on the floor by his side of the bed for a few days now. It got discarded there after he used it to tie a body harness on me so that he could secure the Doxy between my thighs.
He is already up and dressed and downstairs making coffee. I am dragging my heels. It is cold, there are dark black clouds crowding the sky outside the window making it feel more like evening than mornings. I wriggle across the bed and open the curtains fully in a vain attempt to let as much day light into the room as possible. The rope catches my eye, It is snaking out from under the bed and across the carpet towards the window as if, like me, it is searching for the light.
I reach down and pull the length of twisted cord up onto the bed with me. The memories coming flooding back. The feel of the rope running across my skin and between the hot fold of my cunt, the way they tighten as he secures the Doxy up against me. The look of concentration on his face as it tries to get the angle just right and the little chuckle of satisfaction he makes as my body twitches in responses to the thunderous sensation between my thighs when he turns on the vibrator.
I push the rope into my face searching for my scent. I know it must have smelt of me after that day and him too because when he moved the Doxy out of the way so that he could fuck me he had not bothered to remove the rope. Not until afterwards where it was coated with my juices and his all mingled together with that gloriously earthy smell that the rope carries all the time. I sniff along the braided cord searching for that scent but time has stolen it away and all the remains is the gentle aroma that belongs to the rope.
I let it trickle through my hands and down onto my lap. I twist my hands into the pool of cord gathering it up and letting it bind itself around me but when I pull my wrists apart it is disappointingly pliable. I am about to discard it back onto the floor where I found it but then I have another idea. It is not pretty, I am not the one who does the tying usually and so I just wrap and wind until most the rope is used up and then I secure the two ends as best as I can. My ankles are bound tightly together. It feels nice, safe almost and like this I can still part my thighs and reach between them and touch myself.
My phone is just out of arms length but I wriggle across the bed and gather it up. I snap 3 or 4 different images then I send one to him with the message
“Please Sir may I have a wank”
The reply comes within seconds
“I can’t leave yo