Fly

*Mature Subject Matter


As she waited, she sat in the brocade arm chair, wearing his favorite, simple black dress, reading. The room was quiet, but for the near silent whisper of the curtain sheers dusting against the pane, as the autumn breeze waltzed through the small opening in the window. Caressing the pages of her book, she closed her eyes, relishing the cool comfort. 

Setting the book on the side table, she stood and walked toward the window. She couldn’t help herself; her eyes automatically shifted to the right. Against the wall, was the well-used, redwood armoire. Detouring the few steps, she strode over and paused before it, the meticulously wound, hemp bundles clearly visible through its glass doors. Reaching out, her fingers grazed the cool glass in a wistful reverence, half expecting to feel the prickle-bite of the rope. Hoping, really.

Turning on her heels, she continued the few steps to the aged, leaded window, pulling back the sheers to see outside. Beyond the long stretch of yellow-tipped green grass, was a thick wood. The brown trunks stretched into scarlet, papaya, and maize, swaying in time with the breeze, a postage stamp echo of the rural wood she knew as a child. Inside, her heart clung to the tree-topped rhythm, to the familiar, soothing music that belongs only to the autumn, the peaceful, vibrant tune of youth. 

Perhaps it was also the meter of anticipation leaching into her, causing her feet to sway ever-so-slightly back and forth against the dark, fading wood of the old floor while she stood at the window, much like her young feet did when they were excited to go exploring in the wood, waiting for the sun to rise. For she knew, any moment, she’d hear his heavy footsteps, the click-turning of the brass door knob, feel the shifting of the air as he entered the room. 

Above the Persian rug, in the center of the room, hung a shiny steel suspension ring. Walking to it, with a single fingertip, she reached, head high, and gave it a twirl, watching it bounce the sunlight about the room, a dancing kaleidoscope along the walls. Her veins pulsed with the welcomed choreography of the colors, her cheeks pink, warm with the glow of exhilaration. 

Today is a day of transformation. 

Today, she will be a leaf, ready to let go.

Today, I will fly.

– Created in response to the daily prompt, Cling; Image found on Tumblr.

44 thoughts on “Fly

    • That’s exactly it! She’s at peace with her place in the relationship, and with what’s about to happen – shibari suspension, her first time. They will have worked up to this over a long period of time. It’s a feeling unlike anything else as far as bdsm/kink goes, in my opinion. So she’s also excited beyond words! Thanks, Vic!

      • It does sound fun/scary/exciting. I’ve never done rope play. I’m intrigued but I’m slightly claustrophobic plus have super sensitive skin…I don’t know if I’d like it or freak out.

      • There’s all kinds of rope out there, including simple cotton (at Home Depot, even!) which is soft. I’m claustrophobic too, but there’s all kinds of reactions to all kinds of scenerios…so you never know! I have had a couple unpleasant bondage reactions. 😳

      • That’s true. You never know until you try. And the mindset is different when all those good chemicals are flooding the brain. I’ve been restrained but it would’ve been easy to get out of should I need to…the rope would take a lot longer. But I think part of the fun is that element, right? That you are not in control at all.

      • Absolutely. It’s incredibly challenging, in that you have no control, must be patient (definitely takes longer), and there’s discomfort, all of which allow opportunity for surrender in body and spirit. So much trust is involved! For me – I can only speak for me!

      • Definitely trust. I’m not sure I have it in me to be that surrendered in spirit. I’m so happy that you’ve found what you need though. I delight in the variety of experiences I’m shown glimpses of on WP. ❤

      • Absolutely. That’s why I try to be sure others know I only speak for me and would never assume to know what would work for them! I’m definitely only describing my experience. I enjoy the glimpses here, and everywhere. In person, recently, too. It makes my heart full if your heart is full. 💜 Thank you, Vic. I’m happy you are happy.

  1. Your writing is beautiful. I love the poetic style that you use in your description as it really helps to visualise the scene and appeal to the senses. I am really enjoying reading your prose.

    • Thank you so much, Missy! We spoke recently about fantasy and how we experience that, and I wrote from that same base. Also, from a spiritual sense. That may sound silly, but it’s how it feels! I’m so happy you’re enjoying it. 💜

      • It doesn’t sounds silly at all and the result is great. I wish I could write creative pieces but it just doesn’t come.

      • Thank you! You write so well! You sort and articulate your feelings in a way that is easy to feel and understand. I appreciate that very much. I bet that would translate creatively. It has honestly taken me years to even have the courage to try.

      • I guess I have always learnt more to writing reflective rather than creative. I don’t have the ideas for that. I like reading it though 😊

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