Roped Back in By A Narcissist

He quite literally tied me up — but I quickly learned that shibari sessions and shitty communication skills don’t mix, even in non-monogamy.

Enjoy this adaptation from my novel, Pretty Kinky for a Love Story, available now on Amazon.

Something shifted between Ned and I over the week that followed. He invited me to eat lunch with him in his room, alone, every day, and this became our standard. The innuendos increased and the eye contact wasn’t always accompanied by words.

We started texting after work again. One night he wrote, “I used to be afraid of love, but not anymore.”

On Friday, at lunch, he invited me and the family over for Saturday night. “It’s been so long since you came over,” he said. Again, he held eye contact for a beat too long.

He’s just a friend, I reminded myself, but another part of me chimed in. People change their minds…

I tried to talk to Veronica, but she just rolled her eyes.

~

Tarah trimmed my hair almost immediately upon my arrival. “We want to do this before we drink or smoke,” she said.

Ned had already whisked Jack away to his workshop to brag about his latest project, so Jack missed us playing salon. He was beyond disappointed; girls touching each other’s hair is one of his biggest turn-ons.

Can’t say I blame him. I love having my hair gently touched, and so I was quiet as Tarah worked. It was a comfortable silence.

After taco takeout and wine, we all gathered in Ned and Tarah’s bedroom. Just friends, getting a little high while the kids played video games together in the basement. No biggie.

Jack and Tarah weren’t there when the shibari started. They were probably checking on the kids or had offered to clean the kitchen, I don’t know.

I do know that it was just me and Ned. I was standing at the foot of the bed, and he was sitting on the side.

He reached down and pulled out several bundles of colored rope. “Can I practice on you?” he asked.

I hesitated.

Veronica would later ask me what the fuck shibari is, so let me define it for you here. Shibari is form of bondage originating in Japan, using ropes to create all sorts of fancy ties around a person. Like the most intricate, creative hogtie you can imagine. Ned and I had been talking about this practice recently, as Ned had taken a class in it and had been practicing the basics at home. He and I shared an interest in BDSM, but shibari isn’t always about sex. It’s also considered an art.

I knew all of this, but… “I thought we weren’t doing the bodies?”

He had a quick answer. “We’ll do it over your clothes.”

I watched his eyes scan my gray halter top, no bra, and little jean shorts. I didn’t think Ned did this for the art.

He patted the bed in front of him. “It’s just playing.” He shrugged.

When I nodded, he studied the colors in front of him, then looked at my legs. “For you, pink,” he said.

I sat on the bed, facing him. He gently grabbed my ankle and pulled my leg straight, my foot into his lap. He did the first tie, his hands gently caressing my skin as he worked his way up my leg, criss-crossing the rope and tying knot after knot.

Jack and Tarah burst back in moments later, giggling about who knows what, but stopped short when they saw us. I saw Jack flinch for a second, and Tarah’s eyes grew wide as her eyebrows shot up. She shot Jack a side-eye glance.

I could see surprise on Jack, but not annoyance or betrayal. Actually, I knew he would be annoyed to be on kid-duty while I was indisposed — they were getting a little rowdy in the basement. I also saw confusion on Jack’s face, which, to be fair, I shared with him. He was probably also wondering if he was now allowed to get flirty with Tarah — scratch that, he’s always a bit flirty…but I’m sure renewed visions of handjobs floated through his brain.

I mumbled something about “just practicing” to them, but I know I was probably slightly incoherent. I was already entering my submissive mindset, where I shut off the anxious part of my brain. I was in the zone, in the moment, absorbing what the dominant in front of me was doing, and doing my best to please him. I wasn’t in the same world as Jack and Tarah, and they could both surely read that on my face.

They took their tokes and then left us alone.

Ned binds my legs together and laces them up to my mid-thigh. I watch his hands on my legs, in between them, my feet in his lap. He smiles, smirks. “Pink looks amazing on you.” This tie is the quickest, and he explains that this is the easy one.

“Now, untying is half the fun,” he says. Then he unties me, and it feels just as erotic, maybe more, as he slides each knot undone, his hands constantly brushing against my skin, slowly.

Next, he binds my leg so that my heel meets my butt, explaining to me that typically, he’d tie up my other leg just like this, and then maybe rope the legs to the bed or bind them in a way so that my legs were spread wide. He pushes me back against the bed and rolls me around by my bound leg to demonstrate. Exposed.

He asks if he can take a picture of my leg. “Just the leg,” he says. “No faces.”

I allow it, if he’ll send it to me.

He makes me scoot close to him so that he can untie the top part. When he’s not looking at the ropes on my body, he looks into my eyes. He’s quiet through most of this, so the words he did say — they stuck.

“Imagine what people at work would think,” he says.

I smile, but I’m not sure what to say. Am I reading too much into his words?

“I think Ralph knows,” he says. Knows what? “He actually kind of gave me his blessing,” he adds. “He told me that you and Jack are ‘good people.’” Yes, that sounds like something Ralph would say, but I still don’t know what Ned means. I think I do, but why isn’t he just saying it? I didn’t want to break the spell by asking him to clarify.

He continues to untie me. The air is thick with that same tension that existed between us back in March. I feel a swell in my chest, and then tingles of pleasure on my legs as he caresses me out of the bondage.

He keeps talking, slowly, softly. “I talked to Tarah about us eating lunch together every day, and she gave us her blessing, too,” he says.

I start stammering, ready to beg for clarity, but then Jack and Tarah burst into the room again.

They were ready to party, so the mood shifted. It was a group hangout now. They wanted to watch Ned do another tie. He chose to make a harness around me, starting around my neck, not too tight, and then down around my breasts, though they stayed covered by my top. Jack and Tarah oohed and ahhed and complimented the pink against my skin. They watched as Ned took a picture of this creation, and then they left us alone to untie.

Ned had me sit in front of him again. He leaned me forward, my forehead resting on his chest, so that he could untie my back. Why not just turn around, I thought, but I obliged, inhaling his scent as he worked.

When he finished, he beamed at me. I stood up by the door, knowing we had to be done — the kids had reached obnoxious-level rowdy. Jack would surely lose his shit at Holden if I didn’t intervene soon.

Ned jumped up next to me and said, “Hey, come here.” He pulled me close to him. “Now we hug,” he said, and we embraced for more than a moment.

As he pulled away, he locked his eyes on mine. “You’re a beautiful model,” he whispered. Then he left to join the others.

~

We started a movie for the kids, and then the four of us adults gathered around the firepit on their patio. Ned and Jack sat in chairs while Tarah and I danced in front of them, bathing in the fire’s heat and the guys’ gazes. Ned put his bare foot over mine, stopping me from rotating like a rotisserie chicken, instead holding my body in front of his, in place, while he stared.

I felt wanted. Desired.

Later, in the kitchen, cleaning up, he put his hand on the small of my back and held it there. He winked at me, a warm smile on his face.

This is not friends without the bodies, I thought.

~

I gave Veronica the full report on our Monday morning walk. After I explained shibari to her…well, the look she gave me, to match the words that blurted out of her mouth. “Oh, no, Eliza.”

She wasn’t wrong.

~

That same Monday at lunch, Ned gushed about The Ethical Slut, which I’d recommended months ago. He’d finally gotten around to reading it now that I was sharing my Audible account with him. That evening, he texted me something flirty, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to scratch that damn itch for clarification. He’d tied me up two days before, so come on.

Me: Are you flirting with intention?

Ned: I like to flirt with my friends. It’s fun.

Me: I guess I just want some clarity on things…after last weekend and all.

Ned: I don’t think we’re at the point to mess around just yet, but maybe we’ll get there someday.

Why did my cheeks grow hot reading that? I was so embarrassed. I had assumed too much of our rope session. I had assumed too much of his flirting, and I felt stupid. Why couldn’t I just be cool?

I reminded myself that Ned and Tarah had other partners, and that he had said they couldn’t have anyone else. I reminded myself that we were trying to cultivate a deep, meaningful, long-term friendship. Ned and Tarah were special. We’d even been talking about future events, like going on spring break together as a giant group of ten, and then just the four of us adults going to Vegas for our fortieth birthdays the next summer. I wanted this. I wanted to keep them in my life.

I wanted to stop being so damn clingy and let things be.

But he had said maybe and someday. That wasn’t no, and that fucked with me.

Interested in more? Perhaps you’d like to read my novel, Pretty Kinky for a Love Story, available now on Amazon.