The silk whispered against my skin.

Blindfolded I heard —the faint, delicate  rustle  of a silk ribbon passing through a big metal ring that held my body  suspended three feet off the ground,, every noise danced for  my attention. The creak of the beam above me. The soft pad of mistress’ footsteps circling. The way my own breathing had gone shallow as my chest rose and fell gently  against the intricate web of pink silk that hugged me tight.

A brief silence. Then   fingertips traced the ribbon where it crossed my sternum, tracing the silk’s edge until it met bare skin. The touch was feather-light, barely there, and my whole body tightened in delight and response.

“You’re not supposed to be thinking.”

Said Mistress as she continued her knot work . 

I swallowed. My wrists were bound behind my back. More ribbons wrapped my thighs, my calves, my ankles—each one creating pressure points that I hadn’t known existed until they were singled out and kissed by silk. A harness crisscrossed my chest, framing the small breasts, lifting them. Teasing my sensitive nipples every time I swayed slightly. The ribbon that passed between my legs had been tied with deliberate, almost cruel precision, the knot resting against the indent on my swollen sissy clit massaging and stimulating it exactly where I needed it to the least and most.