Gurama Aunty
Not lose enough for me to slip out of but not so tight that they bothered me. He leaned into me and kissed me, our tongues dancing together before finally he drew away. He looked me in the eyes and raised one eyebrow, I nodded again.Gathering up the bundle of rope I saw that it was actually four pieces of the same length. He took each piece and with quick hands soon had one end of each tied to each one of the cuffs. He tugged on them a bit testing the knot and I felt the first quivers of what some call subspace. For me subspace is almost an altered state. I seem to lose all sense of what is around me, the only thing that exists is what I’m doing and what is being done to me. It’s a very freeing state, and I think that this is the reward that many those in BDSM seek.He slowly tied the other end of each rope to a corner of the bed, I heard him say softly “It really is too bad this isn’t a four poster bed, but we’ll make due” and I let his words create an image in my mind of four. We stepped into a dream. You might have expected chaos and fear, people hysterical. You found a grim, quiet determination. A small army of us, armed with fluorescent orange crash vests and American flag stickers descended upon the terminals, trying so hard to look in control of a situation we still had not begun to comprehend. We were to provide comfort and guidance, reassurance to the people there. Often, we were the ones comforted, but that in itself can offer comfort to both parties. Many passengers and workers alike wandered around in a type of daze. Every once in a while, someone would shake their head sharply and look around. Looking into their now narrowed eyes, and you could literally see when numb shock gave way to pure American fury. With a quickened and purposeful step, they would move away, searching for only-they-knew. As the day wore on, international flights were brought in. New faces and voices filled the airport. The mood changed. In more languages than I will ever.
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