Page 117 of Gideon
“Good evening, Sir,” she said, not lifting her eyes once as I entered the room.
“My God,” I cursed, my hand holding onto my chest as it threatened to run away, it raced so rapidly.
“Am I to your liking, Sir?” she asked. I could see the corner of her lip turn up in the smallest of smirks. There she was. My vixen. My wife.
“More than to my liking, vixen. You are utter perfection,” I stated, walking fully into the room. I was unable to take my eyes off of her. Her beauty flooded all of my senses. My dominance rose to the surface, wanting desperately to take over.
She stayed quiet, waiting for my word, yearning for my command. It was a heady thing to feel this level of submission. Sure, I had played with many well-trained submissives, but to have a woman like Naomi do something like this? Something so profound and so powerful? There was nothing like it.
“What did you have in mind tonight, vixen?” I asked her, standing before her, feeling my dominance take hold.
“Only to submit, Sir,” she answered softly.
“Only to submit? In what way?” I pushed her, wanting her honesty more than anything else at that moment.
“I trust you, Sir. Whatever you wish.” That smirk still played at her lips, but Christ Almighty, what a woman!
“As fun as this little game has been, vixen, I believe that what I would like would be more suited to the bedroom than the boat.” I looked around the room, finding her bathrobe hanging on the back of a chair. “Please put your robe on and allow me to escort you back to the house, to our room, where we may play to our hearts’ content.”
She nodded, standing so gracefully as she obeyed.
I led her back to the house, both of us silent, her smile telling me that she mirrored my near giddy excitement for the night ahead of us.
As we entered our bedroom, I quickly took her robe, wanting her naked as fast as possible.
“Kneel again for me, vixen,” I whispered lowly against the shell of her ear. She dropped to her knees just as gracefully as before, lowering herself into the beautiful position of submission.
I grabbed the bag from my closet, pulling out the items that I would need. Tonight, I wanted something different, something more challenging. The night before, she had come to me asking questions about suspension. We spoke for hours regarding the dangers, safety protocol, and the incredible sensations involved with being hoisted into the air, held only by rope.
I pulled the jute rope out of the bag, long lengths and short, deciding which ties I wanted to do. After I had pulled everything I needed from the bag by way of toys and rope, I put the bag back into the closet, grabbing the wooden rod I used for suspension. I had only used this to suspend myself so far, but I knew it was safe and I knew it would hold her.
“Tonight, I want to suspend you, vixen,” I told her firmly as I quickly prepared the room. The rod was quickly affixed to the ceiling on a sturdy but simple pulley system, hanging only about four feet off the ground. I would lift her higher once she was off the ground, but for now, this would be perfect.
“I want to show you what it can feel like. But I want you to trust it. I want you to trust me. Tell me your thoughts, vixen.” It wasn’t a question, but a command. From her kneeling position, she answered without hesitation.
“It surprises me, Sir, but more than that, it excites me,” she answered, sounding a touch breathless.
“Continue,” I urged her as I readied the ropes.
“After our conversation last night, I feel like I understand it as well as I can in a theoretical sense. I’m ready to understand it from a practical standpoint. I’m ready to trust you.”
I paused in my movements for a moment, her words pouring over me like holy water. Those were the kind of words that would make any Dominant pause and feel immense pride.
“I’m glad to hear it, vixen,” I replied with honest sincerity. “Come stand in front of me.”
She stood quickly, moving to stand exactly where I pointed to the floor.
“Eyes down, arms at your sides,” I commanded, my chest filling with pride as she obeyed without a word. I tied the jute around her, beginning a simple chest harness that crossed over her chest. There wasn’t much to the tie, no intricate weaving or knots. Simple was key for this particular plan of mine. The tie gathered at her chest, giving just enough room for me to tie to the bar. I moved her closer to the wooden bar, affixing the rope and testing each knot as I tied it.
Then came the hip harness. Again, it was a rather simple tie, something that would hold her body weight and allow her to relax into it easily. I wanted her to love this, to feel the freedom of floating, as though she were flying.
“Wrap your arms up around the bar,” I guided her. As I looped the rope up over the bar, her hips came off the ground. I held her body weight as I pulled on the rope carefully, balancing her. “Trust the rope of your chest harness. Let go of the bar,” I guided her.
With great caution, she slowly let go of the bar, trusting the ties that held her. With a great gasp, she relaxed against the ties, her arms flinging out to the sides and her head falling back.
“Sir,” she breathed in exultation.
“I know, right?” I chuckled. I couldn’t help myself. I enjoyed being a stern Dominant when the time called for it, but there was something about that first feeling of suspension that just couldn’t be recreated. Like reading your favorite novel for the very first time. You never got that moment back, and I wanted this moment to be just as spectacular for her as it had been for me.
