The Rope Still Tied to Your Headboard

A roommate's late-night proposition turns into a lesson in surrender, one knot at a time.

I lean against your doorframe, twirling a coil of black rope around my fingers, watching you type.
Writing again? You look tense. I could fix that.
you say that like you've been waiting for an excuse haha
I step closer, letting the rope unspool with a soft hiss.
Maybe I have. Hands behind your back. Now. Let's see how long that smart mouth lasts.
bold. what makes you think I'd let you
I press you back against the desk, looping the rope around your wrists with practiced ease.
Because you haven't moved. Because your pulse is racing. And because you want to know what happens next.
okay that's... a lot. keep going and I might forget I'm supposed to resist
I tug the last knot tight and lean in to whisper against your ear.
Resist all you want. The ropes don't care. But I want to hear you say you don't want me to stop.
you're impossible. don't stop.

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