Tape me I am yours - image of missy from focussed and filthy, wearing pink bondage tape around her mouth

Tape me, I am Yours

He has wound the tape around my mouth so that it sticks to itself. I watch him concentrating, lifting his arm as he moves the roll around the back of my head. It feels odd not to speak. It isn’t that I want to, but the knowledge that I can’t seems to hang there like a silence between us. For some reason, he is silent too and I feel a little thrill that flutters inside and makes the corners of my mouth curl into a smile behind the tape.

The strangeness of the situation leads to a feeling of things being different, which is exciting. We are so comfortable with each other, yet his actions have led to an atmosphere where things feel unfamiliar; I am thrown off slightly by that, not in a way that makes me concerned, but in a way that arouses me. He is different with me, and I respond by starting to become a different version of myself, slipping slowly into that submissive space where I become more vulnerable.

My head is pulled to the side a bit as I feel him tear the tape behind me. He comes around and runs his hands over my arms. He looks at me and asks me if I am ok. I nod and he reminds me that if I want to stop I have to squeak the toy which he places in my hand.  Again, I feel that flutter which starts deep inside me and bubbles up to the surface. Again, I think that I would speak if I could and I make a little mmm-hmm noise, perhaps just to prove to myself that I can.

I do not expect what happens next. He takes the tape and begins to unfurl it again, but rather than binding my arms to my sides or my hands behind me, he lifts it up and places it gently across my eyes. I can feel my heart rate quicken a little as he wraps it around in the same way he did for my mouth. I blink my eyes into the unseeing darkness and twitch my nose to feel my altered face. I think I wobble slightly and he checks once again that I am ok.

I have been standing beside the bed, but now he guides me back a bit until I feel the mattress against my legs. He tells me to lie down and then to shuffle up the bed a bit. I can feel his breath on my skin as he moves his face across my body, blowing slightly on my nipples and kissing my stomach and my inner thighs. He pushes my legs apart and I feel him pause there, aware of my arousal. Next he fastens my ankles, so that my legs are spread wide apart and secured to the bottom corners of the bed with the restraints he keeps there.

I feel his fingers trace the outline of my legs and despite the darkness can see in my memory they way his hands look. He is careful not to touch me much and I can feel the ache for something stronger, building inside me. My fists are clenched, one around itself and one around the toy, which I don’t realise until he takes first one, and then the other, and binds them too. I am spread before him, no sight, no voice. I am a little lost, but am clinging on to the pieces of him that I have, and my longing and need for him is growing.

“Are you ready?” he whispers in my ear, and a shiver trembles through me as I nod my head.

 

The featured image is courtesy of Missy from Focussed and Filthy and is used with permission.

 

 

Click here to read more of my creative non-fiction.

Posted in Creative non-fiction, Projects and tagged , , , , .

28 Comments

  1. Fuck yes! That is simply wonderful…how the momentum builds. It is amazing how these slight changes in what we do can bring us back to a state of lost equilibrium and provide anticipation and butterflies with the person we have been with for years.

  2. Sounds amazing Missy. Queen strapped my hands and legs with restraints last night, blindfolded me and put headphones in my ears. Sensory deprivation totally changes the experience. Never been unable to speak though. Interesting idea…

    • I am sure you will get your chance sometime soon. I agree with you about sensory deprivation though. It is very interesting. ?

  3. We don’t play too much with anything over my mouth like that (although I love a good bit gag) but I have noticed that silence begets silence between us, too. And it can be such a delicious thing.

      • I handle the bit gag better than any other gag. It still has good airflow but I can’t talk…and since I have a slight humiliation fetish, it creates that drool thing that most other gags do, too, and I like that, too. 🙂

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.