Prayers of Binding*

Chastity wrapped the rope around her legs: once, twice… four times, just as Father had taught her. The binding was a ritual of prayer, even in itself. She understood that. The soft fur of the ‘altar’ she lay upon tickled her unprotected everything, just as the tightening friction of the rope gained purchase against her skin. Physical sensations she recognised and could bask in now, two weeks into her training. Being naked all the time gave such an increased sense of the tactile nature of the world. No cotton sheathe shrouding her from the kiss of a spring morning’s breeze or the brush of a stranger’s clothing as they passed her in the tight corridors of the commune. It heightened her awareness of the straying eyes and hands of the faceless Brothers… even as she grew more used and less put out by them.

Even now, a good half-dozen or more of the masked men were knelt watching her performative knot-tying. Shuffling around a little on the edges of her periphery. She had left her mother entertaining an equal number in their sleeping quarters. If you concentrated, you could just pick out the echoes of her moans still reaching this place through the twisting corners taken to reach it. The teenager let her ears phase out such white noise though. The peace and tranquillity of this circular room was very much part of it’s charm… and she was accustomed enough to her parent’s ‘songs of pleasure’ by now to be able to ignore them.

With the knots done, she raised her now locked-together legs skyward, in order to pull the trailing ends back through. A murmur of appreciation came from her audience, clearly enjoying the exposing view of her womanhood this provided. Chastity vaguely noted that several penises had been drawn from their sheathes, gripped in callous hands and being calmly stroked toward erection. A trail of swollen swords followed her in most directions she walked these days, however… gone were her childish qualms about such things. Her purpose was to draw out such sinful urges, after all. If a man in her presence didn’t have his cock in his hand, she was presumably not doing her job properly. At least that was the way the preacher laid it out… Being a full-grown woman was such a strange and difficult set of responsibilities. She was glad the commune gave her so many chances to learn and practice.

She pulled the rope up through the gap between her thighs now, right along the path of her asscrack and on to further knots around her back and waist. Feeling that rough material slide in between her labia and grow tighter and tighter, still gave her slight shivers of discomfort and excitement. It seemed so weird, to be voluntarily providing oneself with a wedgie and restricting so much of her movement. Yet ‘One must know restraint, to value freedom’ was another of Father’s favoured mantras… one he seemed to almost mutter to himself quite often, as he looked down on her self-tying form. Chastity made a patterned net of her back and stomach as she pondered this, all the way up to a specific harness around her breasts. These were propped up and pushed out by the grip of the knots around them, knots that grew tighter with every slightest movement… much like those between her legs. By now the whole arrangement was nearing completion, and this gradual increase in accidental stimulation was making her head and heart feel quite fluttery.

A brother stepped forward to help her with the last bit. Of course, she had no idea if it was the same one each time… or a completely different set of watchers every day. They never spoke to her. Instead simply diligently aiding in pulling her arms back behind her back and wrapping them in much the same way as her legs. A final knot between her wrists was combined with the one betwixt her ankles… and she was done. A kneeling parcel of string-wrapped pork, laid out upon this softened altar and blessed on all sides by windowed sunshine. Chastity smiled, to feel the finality of it settle in. To feel the oddly-comforting, but also slightly terrifying idea that she was now completely helpless to move anywhere on her own settle in. The knots and bindings shifted and tightened with every slight breath she took, resulting in a constant but inevitable cycle of slight excitements and increasing frictions.

All around her, the Brothers moved in. Their meaty spears an encroaching palisade. The teen beat back her early nervousness though. This was just another day. This was where she was supposed to be. A stray knot pushed up against her anus a little and made her gasp and giggle. The Lord was surely looking down at her and smiling widely.