I pulled the rope, and in so doing, forced her body higher, her feet further in.  She cursed softly, more at herself, I thought, than me-at her body for being so reluctant to take the shape I desired.  She spun one direction, and then the other, winding smoothly with the slightest of touches.

I called her the bow, for that was her shape.  Her arms were behind her, bound.  Her shoulders had to ache, or would ache later, for the unyielding posture I forced upon them.  She could rely on the rope to hold her thus, but much like myself, her pride wouldn’t allow the defeat of having rope do something she could not.

Her breasts and stomach were criss crossed with it, a knot resting above her heart - the junction where suspension took it’s grip.  She had to be careful with her breath, the rope knotted in a way that tightened incrementally each time she released one of her deep breaths.

‘How do you feel?’

‘A little dizzy.’  She said, her eyes finding mine before the spin broke the contact.  I placed my hand on her waist to still her movement and smiled at her.

‘I can let you down.’

‘No.’  She closed her eyes.  ‘I feel like…’ she moistened her mouth, ‘like I’m flying.  Or being lifted.’

‘So you’re good?’

‘Yea, D.  Real good.’  Her head rolled back.  I felt the tips of her hair brush my fingers.  ‘Realll gooood.’  She whispered the words and again, I was unsure if she meant for me to hear them.

I sat down in the chair and watched her.  The spinning had stopped, but she made small half circles in the air as the rope absorbed the subtle movements of her body.  She relaxed slowly in the rope.  The graceful arch of her body dissolved as she allowed the rope to take over.

‘D?’  She whispered.  Her eyes were heavy lidded.

‘Mm?’

‘I’m ready.’

‘To come down?’

‘Yes, please.’

When I had her down and my fingers had run over the stunning marks left upon her skin, I asked her.  ‘Done flying?’

‘Still flying.’

‘Silly pet.’

‘I love you too.’