Page 25 of Tying Little Tay (Littles of Rawhide Ranch #13)

Tay

Those words struck at Tay’s very core. There was something about the mere thought of rope that promised calmness and a stillness that often eluded them in their everyday life. And now Guilia was promising to tie them up again.

They undressed each other in something like a frenzy, each of them barely pausing for breath, kissing and stroking and touching, and when they were done, Tay’s head was spinning.

“Come, sit here,” Guilia said, gesturing to the edge of the bed.

Tay shuffled forward and plonked themself down. They could feel the coverlet, cool beneath their butt, and wriggled on the spot.

“How would you feel about me blindfolding you?” asked Guilia.

It wasn’t something that Tay had done before, but they could see the benefit of it, especially when paired with rope. “I think that could be fun,” they said.

The scarf that Guilia used to blindfold them was so soft Tay could have cuddled up and fallen asleep with it as a binky. They kept reaching up to stroke it and then dropping their hands to flap by their sides.

“You good, conigliette?” Guilia’s mouth was suddenly by Tay’s ear. Her breath was hot and her words sent shivers down Tay’s spine.

“Yes, Daddy,” whispered Tay.

There was silence then, and Tay strained to hear what Guilia was doing. There was a whisper of sound and a quiet knock as she opened the chest at the end of the bed where Tay knew she kept her rope.

Then came the familiar whoosh of rope as Guilia ran it through her fingers. The mere sound did something to Tay’s heartrate—not speeding it up, like one might assume, but instead settling it. Calm descending over them until their breathing evened out and they were able to let go.

Guilia hadn’t even touched them with the rope yet, and already Tay was feeling relaxed.

Then the kiss of rope against skin, and lips pressed against Tay’s cheek. “Are you ready, tesore?”

“Yes, Daddy,” whispered Tay.

Being blindfolded changed this. With their eyes open, Tay could see what was happening, predict where Guilia was going to go next, work out what she was planning. But with eyes closed, the scene took on a different experience altogether.

There was no anticipating what move Guilia was going to make, and even the most simple of column ties took Tay by surprise.

They felt unanchored, floating and it sent them hurtling into subspace quicker than they’d ever experienced.

All they could do was exist, and in existing, they pleased Guilia.

They knew that, could hear it in the little noises of pleasure, could feel it in the smiles against their skin.

There was no topping from the bottom, no trying to help Guilia get a particular knot right.

Tay got to float.

They got to drift away from the thoughts that so often pulled them down and be fully present in their body.

They weren’t in charge anymore. They did not need to make decisions, or try to be pleasing, or even be the perfect partner. None of that mattered.

None of that existed.

Just Guilia.

“Tesore,” she whispered. “Mi conigliette. You’re doing so well.”

It took a full minute before Tay realized that their wrists were hanging from the rope as if they were a puppet, being puppeteered by their Daddy.

She moved the rope around, and Tay’s wrists followed, swinging from side to side, sometimes wildly.

They weren’t trying to control the movements, so they felt fluid.

Dollification wasn’t something that Tay had ever been interested in—it was often far too mixed up with bimbofication and they weren’t a pretty doll—but this? This felt entirely different. Brought a new meaning to a rigger having control over their rope bunny.

Tay loved it.

Their arms were stretched out, and they realized that Guilia must be tying them to the posts at the end of the bed.

It took a while for the winging to stop, but when it did, it happened naturally, and by that point Guilia was on her knees, spreading Tay’s legs open wide and so Tay really didn’t have the capacity to care much.

Firm hands, edging Tay’s legs apart, and then butterfly kisses up their left thigh until Guilia’s mouth met Tay’s curls.

They felt fingers then, stroking through their bush until Guilia found their clit, and then intense, unyielding circles over and over until Tay’s head began to flop to one side.

“You still with me, tesore?” asked a voice from far away.

It was Guilia. It must be Guilia , thought Tay.

The circles paused for a moment and Tay keened, desperate to retain the pressure.

“Tay, are you green?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” they said. “Green as green can be. Why did you stop ?”

Guilia chuckled. “Because you didn’t answer me.”

“Well, I’ve answered you now, Daddy, come on. Crack on!”