Once again I asked for prompts on the FediVerse and Ciel offered me a lovely one.
Content warning: bondage.
The noise of the city vanished in Mackenzie’s lair; everything vanished in her lair. The floor was soft, the walls were painted a very pale blue, and the hooks overhead were painted to match the slightly darker blue of the very durable ceiling. The cabinets along one wall were placed so that they more or less vanished into a shadow; the door itself was hidden in the shadows of those cabinets.
When you walked in, when Mackenzie set the lights just so, you could pretend there was nothing else in the world but you, her, and the room.
Right now, Bran was feeling as if Mackenzie’s smile was its own fourth participant. “I saw you with Antony the other night, your video.” She licked her lips.
Bran raised his eyebrows. “That’s the thing Antony and I do,” he answered carefully. He and Mackenzie had a very well-defined relationship, both inside and outside of this room. Jealousy had never entered into it, jealousy for either of them. She had a boy who kept her bed warm most nights and cooked her dinner. He had Antony he tied up on camera, and Kef most weekends, in and out of the club.
“It is,” she agreed easily. Bran didn’t let himself relax yet. “And you do it beautifully. Much better than I do.”
“I love the way you tie me up,” he protested, though he knew that was the way she touched him when he was tied up, the way she handled him, the way she tugged on the ropes just so. “You do beautiful rope work.”
“And you do it better. So.” She grinned at him and tossed him three lengths of rope; he caught them on reflex. One was red, one was purple, and one –
“Ooh,” he breathed. The third one glowed faintly, shimmered faintly. Mackenzie could get the best toys.
She had walked behind him while he ogled. Her hands snaked around his neck; Bran held very still. She always collared him, every time. This collar felt different. Softer. Colder, but like it was almost tingling.
“This will help,” she murmured. “And you’ll need a little help, though the rope will do most of it. Now, my lovely boy, let me see what you can do with that rope.”
Bran groaned, more a show than a complaint. “But I love the way you-“
She tugged on the back of his collar. “You’ll get all of that. First. Let’s see what you can do with the rope helping you.”
Her smile might be behind him, but he could hear it. It was the smile that went right to his groin, the one that meant the night would be deliciously difficult and all sort of fun.
He could feel the collar was doing something, too. He couldn’t tell what – you never could tell with Mackenzie’s toys until they had you, say, hanging upside down considering the world while feeling almost weightless.
Let’s see what you can do. He knew a challenge when he heard one, and he knew what Mackenzie would be like if he disappointed her. He pouted anyway, even as he began some simple knots on his legs. He was going to get himself as tied up as he liked to be, whether the rope helped him or not. “I like it when you touch me,” he sulked.
“I like it when you do what I tell you to,” she countered. Her hand was in his hair, her other hand on his ass. “Which you’re going to do, right?”
The collar squeezed a little around his throat; Bran gasped happily. “Yes, Mistress,” he purred. He began looping the two “normal” ropes, working up his legs. This wasn’t what he’d done with Antony, but Antony liked to be splayed and those poses got better hits, anyway. Bran liked to be cocooned.
Of course, getting his arms right was going to be a trick, but he’d burn that bridge when he came to it.
He chewed on the problem as he bound his knees together and began binding his thighs to his calves. Mackenzie’s hands were on his hair and his neck, on his collar and on his chest. She was quiet, but she normally was while tying him up, too.
Then he felt a rope snake around his left wrist. He looked at the rope, looked at Mackenzie, looked back at the rope. The shining, iridescent rope looked even brighter as the lights in the room dimmed. And it was beginning a loop just like he’d been considering.
Is that what it did? He thought about the first set of loops while he worked on pinning his thighs thoroughly to his lower legs. He considered how much rope he had left – and was less surprised than he might have been to see the two mundane ropes begin snaking around his chest and stomach as well.
He closed his eyes and pictured what the pattern ought to look like as the rope tugged his arms behind his back. He groaned as the rope pulled his arms tight to each other, his hands palm to palm, as the other ropes twisted and turned around his chest and stomach in a corset that, if it looked like it did in his mind, was absolutely scrumptious looking.
When the ropes tugged his fingertips towards his toes, he let out a moan that he knew would lead to Mackenzie gagging him. He thought about the way the gag would push against his lips and force his teeth open. How it would muffle him and render him helpless, completely at her mercy.
The rope knot that pressed at his mouth made him gasp in surprise, even as he shifted to fight it. Mackenzie liked a little fight. He was going to give her everything she wanted, even when he could move nothing except his toes and his eyes.
A cloth pressed itself against his eyes as the rope gag forced itself into his mouth. “Good,” Mackenzie purred. He breathed out carefully, the rope pressing against every bit of his body, holding him in its embrace, wriggling his arms and his legs until he was certain he couldn’t get out or even loosen a knot. “Good.” Mackenzie sounded very pleased with herself.
Bran grunted at her happily, and the ropes gave a gentle tug-squeeze around him. Good, indeed. He had a pretty good idea what he looked like, and that was gorgeous.