Tie me up, tie me down

So yesterday, Steve tells me he's been practicing some new things with rope, and asked if I'd ever be up for experimenting with them. While bondage isn't my primary kink, it can be pretty hot in conjunction with spanking, so I said yes, I was game. 

I asked where he'd learned the techniques, and he answered, "You're gonna laugh at me -- YouTube." It's true; apparently, all you have to do is Google "bdsm" + "rope," click "Videos," and voila -- YouTube demos! He said he was particularly fascinated by one tie called the Dragonfly Sleeve, and I encouraged him to go for it.

So, after a nice long warm-up, he pulled a bundle of rope from his bag and started the process. "Hmm," he mumbled. "This is the first time I've tried this with an actual person -- it's harder than it looked." Finally, he sheepishly admitted that he needed to look at the YouTube video again. So there I stood, half-tied, while he looked up the video and refreshed his memory on the technique. Once I saw what he was doing, I could understand why he needed to look at it again. It's complicated.

But he figured it out well, as you can see.

He helped me into place for some different pictures. Do you know how hard it is to lower yourself down into certain positions without the use of your hands? 

Of course, there was plenty of spanking too. I squirmed and struggled, able to clench and unclench my fists, but little else. My hair went into my face and I couldn't push it away. My nose itched. But those minor discomforts were nothing compared to the major one he was causing.

"I'm getting good with this," he mused, swinging the russet strap. "Soon I'll be able to do it with my eyes closed."

"I thought that's how you were doing it now," I quipped. 

I kid, I kid. When all the bantering, baiting and beating is done, we have this:

When we are saying goodbye, I often don't bother getting fully dressed again just to see him off. He likes to tease me by looking around in the hallway, then pulling me out the door into the hall, where he hugs me and won't let me back in. Argggh! It's never more than a few seconds, but I'm always paranoid that someone will suddenly open their door, or come around the corner, and see us. "I have to live here, dammit!" I hiss. But he just laughs.

Recently, a new neighbor moved into the apartment across from me. She hung a small, but highly detailed crucifix on her front door. Yesterday, when Steve was pulling on my hand, I said, "Behave! Jesus is watching you," and I pointed to her door. He looked, then stepped over and put his one hand over the crucifix. "There, now he can't see," he said, yanking me into the hallway. I wearing nothing but panties.

I swear, that man is going to get me evicted one of these days.