The Spider Garden (consensual het-ish shibari)

Tommy practically runs down the center hall and along the red carpet. Aden almost laughs watching how her curiosity about all things sexual drives her. A small nagging voice in the back of his head is telling him he should be recognizing warning signs, but he doesn't want to think about what's happened to her in the past. They haven't talked about anything important at all; it's as if they both sprang into existence the moment they met. He knows this is foolish, dangerous, doomed to fail. But he isn't brave enough to face the fear she'll leave if he pushes her at all.

As if reading his mind, Tommy stops short at the large brass-chased red double doors at the end of the hall. The brass fittings form an idealized spider, its legs stretching across to the sill of the doors. She bites her lip, placing her hands behind her back, rocking on her heels. "I'm sorry, Nicki," she says, looking up at him guiltily. "I haven't asked you what you want." She frowns. "I'm being selfish."

"No." He smiles at her, stroking her cheek. "I already said this night is about you. We'll do whatever you want."

She backs up until her bottom hits the doors, takes his hands, and leans up, kissing him, her tongue darting into his mouth. When she pulls back, she's got a wicked smile, backing through the doors and pulling him in. The inside of this room is large, at least thirty feet per side. It's very dark, dark enough it's hard to see what's in the fringes of the room. The center is lit with floods on three sides, pointed toward a slightly raised wooden platform. A sound system is playing the sounds of rain and far off thunder; a large semi-circular arch almost ten feet tall is fixed over the display area. There are strong rings fixed around the perimeter of the arch, every foot or so. Coiled to the side, a dozen bright red ropes are visible, along with a small bag full of scissors and clips. The emergency trauma kit Graham grabbed from Security is there, also; Nick has seen shibari before so he knows it's important to be careful. All around the dark side of the platform, there are cushions and pillows and blankets, practically a nest for people to lay in. Aden can make out several people already lounging there, skin and clothes reflecting motes of lights from the floods. Kate motions to them, patting some pillows near her. Tommy crouches down next to her, staring at the platform. "What's going on?" she whispers, confused and intrigued.

"Master Michael is going to put on a show for us," Kate explains. "It's called shibari, the art of Japanese rope binding. It's been getting bigger and bigger in the lifestyle."

"Binding?" Tommy's eyes widen. "He's going to tie someone up? But why the hooks and so many ropes?"

"You'll see, darling." Kate shifts over as Nick lays down behind Tommy. He puts his arms around her, noticing Kate's hand sliding along Tommy's thigh, just below the edge of her skirt. She winks at him; he smiles back and nods. On stage, a tall and athletic black woman steps out, her skin lightly oiled so it glows under the lights. She's totally naked, her breasts large, the nipples puffy, barbell studs shining brightly. As she turns to face the audience, Master Michael steps out from the shadows. He's wearing long black pants and boots, topless, his muscles well defined, light brown hair trailing down his chest and abs drawing a line toward his crotch. Without speaking at all, Master Michael bends and picks up the first rope, popping it out into a run with a single flick of his wrist. Holding it near the middle, he steps behind the model. Moving her arms, Michael begins by sliding the rope around her neck, a red slash across her dark skin. With another flick, he passes one end of the rope through the line, a quick turn, and another loop, and he's produced a loose necklace around her throat. Working quickly, he slides the doubled rope down her chest and between her slightly parted legs, then tugs upward, the ropes pulling up and sliding between the lips of her cunt. The model flinches, very slightly, her eyelids flicker. "JoJo is perfect for this," Kate whispers. "She's been working with Michael for months, and she's very bendy AND very into it."

Michael's hands pass back and forth from JoJo's front to her back, building a quick criss-cross ladder pattern along her chest and abdomen. Each time, he pulls the ropes tight again, drawing a slight exhalation from her. "That's called a Karada," Kate says; Nick watches her hand slip under the edge of Tommy's skirt. Tommy starts, and looks back at Nick, worried he'll be mad.

"It's fine, love," he murmurs, rubbing her back. "I'm not jealous."

Tommy looks back to the stage, but he can feel her shift and squirm; Kate is watching the show, but her hand is moving under Tommy. As if nothing is happening, Kate continues narrating as Michael finishes, and reaches for another rope. This one passes around JoJo's waist and up under her shoulders, and then upward through the hooks. Michael takes a second to check all the bindings are tight but not dangerously so, then he turns JoJo several times as he runs rope up and down, in and out between her arms and legs. JoJo is breathing heavier, and so is Tommy, Kate's hand working her cock. "This is the start of the tricky part," Kate says. She looks up to Nick, and then down to his crotch, where his hard cock is pressing up. Kate's free hand rises to unhook his belt. Off to their left, he can just see Cecil entwined with a girl, their hands all over each other. Nick starts in pleasure as Kate pulls him free of his pants and begins to pull on his cock in time with Tommy's.

Michael hauls on one end of the ropes, and JoJo, folding by the first bindings into a splayed-out position, her legs out to both sides, her arms above her head, her back arched, head down. Her groan of effort is audible from the platform; Nick catches Tommy's sigh of need as Kate's hand comes out from under her skirt. Kate slickens her fingertips, and then runs them back under the blonde. Nick feels her twitch at whatever Kate is doing; her hand is lubing him with a combination of spit and his pre-cum. On stage, Michael has elevated JoJo and placed her over onto her belly so that she is looking down and in a position much like a sky diver. The image is of a naked woman, her skin glossy with sweat, falling down through a mesh of red ropes toward an imminent impact with the floor. Nick has lost all track of time, letting Kate have free rein. In a moment, he realizes what she's up to as she suddenly slides Tommy back, lifting the back of her skirt, hooking her panties to the side, and sliding Nick's cock into her slowly but firmly. He and Tommy moan in tandem as Kate slides around behind them both and leans close so only they can hear her. "Nicki, you are my oldest and only true friend." He can smell Tommy's scent, that strange cinnamon-spice, mixing with Kate's muskier odor. Michael places his hands on JoJo's thighs, beginning to slowly turn her in the air as he massages the muscles inside her thighs.

"Tommy, you seem like a sweet, innocent lovely girl, and I look forward to our being friends as well." Tommy is moaning over and over, Kate's hands guiding her back onto Nick's cock in a steady deep thrust. "This is the way he likes it the most, Tommy." Nick is groaning, Tommy moaning, the ropes creaking and mingling with the hushed ragged gasps from JoJo as the strain of the ropes, the pull of gravity, and Michael's fingers rubbing the reddened lips of her pussy. And, just barely audible, beneath all other noises, the unmistakable wet sound of a crowd of people having sex. Kate is now yanking Tommy back harder, faster, slamming her down so each stroke makes her gasp. "Nicki, this is the way SHE likes it most," Kates laughs, lovingly. Nick looses all awareness of anything but Tommy's tight ass, the grip of her ass around his cock, her ass slick with her sweat and his, her ass brushing against his abdomen all quivering and hot. The model screams out and squirts at the exact same moment Nick pounds upward, his jizz coating Tommy's insides as her cock shoots a long line of sperm across the cushion in front of her.