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You raised your arms up high and then dipped low to touch your toes, breathing in and out as you went. You repeated this movement a few more times before going to pull your elbows across you for a stretch, and then leaning out and side to side for lunges. Limbering up was always important, because it always made a tough position worse. Satisfied with the stretches, you shed the loose tshirt and your leggings, tossing it to the side of the tatami mat and take a seat with your hands palms up on your knees. You hear the door open behind you as you close your eyes, focusing on your breathing. A bag drops behind you and someone kneels, drawing you back as he pulls your body towards his chest. His arms wrap around you, one hand resting on your stomach while the other comes to rest just under your chin, angling your head back so he can whisper directly into your ear.
“All done stretching?” The familiar voice asks, tone friendly and lighthearted. Satan, you’ve come to find, is very into tying his toys up to play with them.
Your hair stands on end as his breath meets your ear. You nod, silently, and open your eyes. “Good. First position.” He releases your jaw and you shift your knees apart, your arms crossing back behind your back with your wrists crossed. The familiar sound of a zipper coming undone meets you and you hear the rustle of things pulled out behind you. Before he begins, he runs his fingers through your hair and pulls it back, taking an elastic from around his wrist and pulling your hair up into a sloppy but sturdy bun.
The same hands meet your wrists behind you once your hair is up, and you’re pushed forward, your face hovering inches above the floor. The familiar feeling of rough rope glides and encircles your wrists. You hear the steady breathing of the man behind you as he finishes the single tie and tests to make sure the lie doesn’t collapse with a quick few tugs. Satisfied, he grabs you by the bun on top of your head once more and pulls you back off, running the long end of the rope up and over your chest and behind your back again. Deft fingers work quickly, weaving the rope around and hitching the line so that nothing moves and everything stays firmly in place. He places his fingers under the ropes he’s laid across your skin and runs his fingers under them, dressing them, shifting them into place so they lay flat. He reaches around and crosses in front of you once more, four ropes now lay just above and just below your breasts. You wince slightly as his dressing pinches you, but you don’t make a noise. This is routine now. Everything lays how it should against your arms, chest, and wrists. It’s like a welcome hug.
Satan walks around to kneel in front of you, and you raise your head with a smile. The blond puts a hand on your cheek and your turn warmly into it. “We’ll start on your back, and transition into something front-facing...” Satan mumbles, looking up at the bamboo bar hanging only a foot or so about his head. It was hanging from metal chains connected to the tall ceiling, swaying gently. He looked back down at you affectionately again and gripped your cheeks firmly, you mouth puckering. “Thank you for suffering for me.” His words are warm but the fire in his gaze is hot. You nod.
He grabs another length of rope from behind you andreaches between the two wraps around your breasts, making a quick but tight hitch that won’t budge at one end, and then reaches to guide the opposite end up over the bamboo. Once over once, he guides it back through the loop he just made that squishes the ropes together and squeezes the wraps together, your breasts pinched between them, and then... back over the bamboo. He pulls quickly, your legs coming from under you. He’s got you up in the air, but just barely, as your toes are pointed and holding up the most of your weight. You whimper as he locks off his tie with the hitch, your body leaning back and the rope biting into your skin. You see him step back and remove the phone from his pocket, swiping to unlock it and walking around to take a few photos. Once satisfied, he replaces it back into his jacket.
He’s wasting no time now, and while you’re still tip-toeing, he snatches up one of your legs and ties the same single tie around your ankle. When he presses your ankle against your leg and wraps the rope around your thigh tightly, you squeeze your eyes shut again. He circles your leg twice and then hitches the tie once, circles again, and hitches twice before locking off back down near your ankle. Once that tie is complete, he repeats the up line step and pulls that leg up to shoulder level. Your other leg is dangling in the air now, unable to reach the floor. It’s a complicated position, but you breathe through it. Satan steps back to admire what he’s done so far and imagine where he can take it next. He taps his lip thoughtfully in rhythm with your steady breathing. You wiggle your fingers. Still good. After a moment you feel him take hold of your knee and lift it.
He loops the rope around your other ankle and ties it off, making his upline and connecting it to the bamboo as well, pulling your leg back and pointing your knee down. You can still take a full breath but you can feel yourself starting to sweat. His fingers ghost deftly over your down leg and up between your parts thighs, her fingers tracing just slightly over the crease in your panties before drawing back to land a solid smack on your ass. His mouth presses against your ear. “You’re doing wonderful. That pained look on your face is beautiful.” Your gasp reaches him and he chuckles darkly. You feel him starting to run another line from the harness behind your back. Once he’s sure he has a solid hold of the new upline, the first one attached to your front comes off and falls to the floor. Up he hoists you now as you rotate your weight at his whim from the front, and he pushes a hand against your shoulder so you face down against the floor. Down he lets your torso drop until you’re nearly completely inverted, one ankle tied up and most of your weight resting on the tie wrapped around your leg. You take a deep breath as the transition settles and he locks off again, kneeling next to you and crawling under where you hang. You watch him step away again to grab another photo. His hand finds your face, the hair starting to come undone from the messy bun on top of your head. He takes his phone out again, holding your face in his hand and squeezing your cheeks.
“Look at me.” You do, and the shutter on the phone clicks.
Your eyes meet the piercing green in his and he searches your face, twisted into a contemplative look of pain. You feel utterly helpless hanging above him. He stares at you for a moment before rising back up, his hands gliding over your torso and directly under the waistband of your panties. You shift in the ropes and tense your shoulders as his fingers grade the line of your cunt and two fingers spread the lips under your underwear. You whine needily. He brings his fingers back up and circles his touch around the hood of your clit, his other hand wrapping around your neck. Your mouth falls open and stays that way, ragged breathing and throaty groans while he rubs circles on you measured and quick. “Listen to you purr, my my...” he pulls his hands away from you suddenly and you go limp, the ropes creaking to accommodate the shift in weight. You wiggle your fingers again.
You feel his fingers starting to untie the wrap around your thigh and as he unwinds, you slowly extend your leg. You can touch down onto the floor with the top of your foot, but the leg still extended upwards keeps you from planting truly flat. Suddenly you feel a cloth wrap around your face, he’s blindfolding you and let’s your hair fall from the loose bun he tied earlier. It falls around your face and you try to shake it off of you, but he’s pulling it back into his hands now and threading something through it... more rope?
Before you can really register what’s happening, your head is pulled back. “I’m so grateful you keep your hair long...” he chuckles, and then lifts the leg he dropped previously to tie the opposite end around your ankle. He’s put you in a predicament, now, you realize. Relaxing your leg will cause your hair to be pulled, and resting your head will cause you to need to lift your leg, which will exhaust you.
“I’m going to break you, kitten.” He states, simply. His voice is dark and you whine again, trying to find a new comfortable in this tie. It’s nearly impossible. Suddenly you hear a snip and cold metal pressed against your chest as he slides a pair of safety shears between your breasts and cuts the bra from your body, your chest spilling downwards as soon as the fabric separates. You gasp, wiggling, and then again at the sensation of the crotch of your underwear being cut in two. “I’ll make sure to replace these, don’t worry...”
It’s not the underwear you’re worried about, as you hear the hum of a rotor start from behind you. You reflexively look in the direction where it’s coming from, but hiss at the tug you feel on your scalp. Suddenly you feel the wide head of the wand press against the outside of your folds, just barely, and then two fingers spread you open as the wide humming head rests firmly against your clit. You throw your head back and wiggle, trying to press your thighs together, but Satan steps between your knees, keeping them separated. His other hand rests on your hip and squeezes, rocking you back against the wand and. Amusing you to sway. The ropes creak with the movement.
“Pleeeeeease...” you mumble, breath hitching in your throat. You feel the hum increase as it vibrates against the sensitive bud. “Please? Please what, kitten?...” he pulls the rope attached to your hair so your neck cranes back, your body shivering. You moan, unable to keep from grinding your hips along with the movements of his hand.
“Please, more. More, please, Sir,” you plead, feeling saliva starting to fall from your lips onto the mat on the floor below. You feel his hand leave you hip as he traces a fingertip around the entrance of your sex and plunges a finger in without hesitation. Once fully inside, he quickly pulls back and inserts a second. You howl, nearly, your body rocking against the ropes as he finger-fucks you with the wand still pressed against you. It only takes a few moments of the quick finger-movements combined with the stimulation of the vibrator before you feel yourself start to swell. “Come I cum, please, please, please,” you beg, your blocked vision still starring around the edges of the dark blindfold. Satan laughs and turns the vibrator up to full power suddenly.
“Cum.”
You obey him, your body writhing in the hold of the ropes, ignoring the biting pull of your hair being pulled. Your thighs are shaking, and he hasn’t stopped moving his hands or turned off the vibrator. It’s sweet and saccharine and you feel like you’re melting and then suddenly overstimulated the next moment, your body screaming in pleasure while you wailed helplessly, suspended in the air. He’s laughing now behind you, drawing a second and third climax from you without even pausing the onslaught of sensation. This carries on a few moments longer until finally he pulls the wand away and withdrawals his hand from you, leaving you twitching and feeling empty. You hang, swaying by the ropes as you struggle to catch your breath.
“Your pain is breathtaking,” he starts, running his splickened hand over your back and down your thigh. You feel him remove his hand and hear him wipe it on the leg of his pants, then release the tie from your ankle still up in the air, and then from your hair. You’re grateful for the release of pressure, still shivering as he then takes the upline from your back and begins to lower you.
Your knees meet the ground, but he locks off before letting you completely free again. You look around fruitlessly, he’s still got you blindfolded. You hear the rustle of a belt being undone and you drop your head. “Sir...?” You speak softly, and then feel the weight of his cock press against your thigh.
“Spread your legs.” You do so without a second thought, swaying still as your front half is still supported by the ropes. He slips between your legs, the head of his cock stroking against your overstimulated clit and making you wiggle. He hums, drawing the angle back and then wordlessly sinking into you. You drop your head again and whine, biting your lip as he throbs. “Beautiful...” he draws his hips back and thrusts steadily, one hand on the upline holding you up and the other guiding your hips back to meet his, skin meeting skin with a soft thud.
Satan holds you there, moaning and whimpering as he fucks you, his knees pressed against your to keep them spread. His rhythm is quick, the rustle of his belt buckle hanging from his waist in perfect time. “Fuck...” he groans, reaching up to pull the upline loose and drop you the rest of the way down easily, your face and shoulders pressed against the floor now. He leans over you, one hand holding you against the floor as he thrusts harder into you, his groans of pleasure matching with the gasps and whimpers he pulled from you. You can feel him start to throb inside of you as his pace starts to quicken again and you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the hard pulse and his hips press hard against yours and flex, his cock pumping his release into you. You shudder as he moans, raggedly breathing over you as he lets himself ride it out while buried inside of you.
After a moment, he pulls away, his fingers shakily undoing the bindings on your wrists and chest. Once you’re completely untied, he pulls you back upright, removing the blindfold and rests your arms against your chest, slowly pulling you into a deep and tight hug. Peppering your shoulder with kisses, he admires the marks the rope left on your arms, legs, and chest. “Beautiful rope kisses...” he whispers, his thumb tracing over the pinkish lines on your upper arms.
“You are my muse.” You turn your head to look back at him and he narrows his gaze playfully. “A work of art.” He takes the phone out of his jacket pocket. “Shall we look at the photos together?”