The floor is cold. It's dark old marble and there are no carpets. But it's ok. It's curing my skin from the heat of my encounter.

Everything from this perspective seems immense. I feel little, abandoned by myself between the ruins of an old culture.

I sense the ropes all over my body. They slither like snakes and they are comfortable and soft like a warm jumper on a freezing winter day.

My lust is drooling all over my thighs. It's thick and dense like honey melting over me, and it's glorious.

I hear him walking around me, watching his masterpiece in deep awe. He spent the last hour pleasuring my body and now he is taking his reward: he's feeding off my image, the reflection of his adoring sub surrounded by his black ropes.

I shiver. It's still coming in waves and it's so intense I can barely move. I have a knot pressing right in the center of my chest, where my heart is beating, and it's him. It's all him. He tied his desires over my body. He carefully guided the ropes around my curves, drawing a perfect picture of his dreams and now he is standing over me. His soul is coming to life again with every look he gifts me with.

I didn't know. But I know now. He showed me his knowledge and his purpose and he didn't use any words. He crafted the perfect being. He changed me. He molded a new me. He built my silk cocoon and let me evolve into a new woman.

I shook before. I was nervous when he tied me up, at first. But knot after knot, I felt safer. Warmer. He made me beautiful. He kissed my body and sought my pleasure over and over until I begged him to stop. And he didn't.

And now I am new.

I am born again.

I wear the ropes, but he tied his soul to mine in thick red ropes that can't be loosened.

I finally find peace, I breathe as I sense him unleashing the knots on my thighs. The snakes are hissing away, unwanted freedom is placed upon me. He takes me in his arms, interlacing me to his chest.

"Mine."