She could walk her legs forward, get them under her, and the tension on the rope wouldn’t

She could walk her legs forward, get them under her, and the tension on the rope wouldn’t be so bad. She could even close her legs, let the suspended underwear fall clear, bunch around her feet for her to step clear of. She could kick off her shoes. If she really tried, she might be able to slip her wrists clear of the binds, and walk away. The point was, she had options. 

The problem was, her mind was blind to them. She would tease him about how free she was to walk out the door, and maybe she’d give him a wiggle when she went. She’d struggle and fight back, even. Once she’d left a light cut on his cheek where her nail had accidentally scored. But when he’d tied her like this, and his hand had run down the gentle curve of her spine, his finger bumping over each nodule of her spine, he’d given her clear instructions. 

As they fell upon her ears, she could feel them being taken as wrote, reprogramming her mind so that there was no alternative but to follow. It wasn’t a question of if, but how, when her limbs started to ache and her muscles began to spasm, as if trying to escape her bones and flee her skin. They wanted out, but she only wanted in. 

She hang there, and waited. Or rather, was waited upon. She knew he was close by, even though she could neither see nor hear him. He had a presence, as all the best men did, and the way the hairs on the back of her neck stirred let her know that he hadn’t quite left the immediate area just yet. 

Even if he had, she wouldn’t disobey. Maybe a month ago. Or a week. But something had changed in her, and while it scared her, it also gave her a thrill like nothing else. It wasn’t something broken, but rather something built. A synaptic bridge that wasn’t there before. Things made sense. Why she did this, why she wanted it, and what she was going to do.

All three things were somehow found in the simple fact that He’d told her to.