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The choice of book was particularly diabolical. No matter how committed either of them had been to the bit, one couldn’t finish Moby Dick in a single setting. It was simply impossible. So she had just stopped at a natural cut off point in the book. It was an open invitation for follow up.\n\n\tWho was Emerald to say no?\n\n\tSo when he finally got up the nerve to stammer out another kidnapping request, she hadn’t exactly looked surprised. \n\n\tA few weeks after the initial request, the two of them were playing board games and drinking orange juice. She said something funny. He laughed. A LOT. Way more than he intended to. It wasn’t THAT funny, was it? \n\tAnd then everything started to get blurry. \n\n\tHe looked at the orange juice in his hand. Then he looked at Silk. Mere moments left of consciousness. “You . . . druggeded my juibce?” \n\n\tThe sylveon twirled some ribbons in her finger. “Who, me?” Her innocent smile was the last thing he saw before everything went black. \n\n\tEmerald came to consciousness drowsy and confused. MOTION. He was moving. FALLING. Flying? He jerked in shock, but felt resistance. Pinned by something, but also STILL MOVING. He grunted in surprise, and heard his own voice come out as a muffled “mmgmmph?!” \n\n\tHis vision began to clear. He was tied up. To a chair. But where was the ground???\n\n\tIt took him a while to realize that the ground was a solid four feet below him. He was tied to a chair. But the CHAIR ITSELF was suspended in an elaborate shibari-like rig. Every motion he made, every surprised little jerk, was making the whole thing swing. Like a playground swing. \n\n\tHis eyes settled at last on the culprit, the diabolical genius behind his moment of confusion, panic, and sensory immersion: Silk Sketch. Sitting on the bed below him, beaming with sparkles in her eyes. \n\n\t[i]Holy heck Silk you diabolical genius. \n[/i]\n\tSilk gestured with wide arms and theatrical grandeur. “BEHOLD! The thing that I did! Isn’t it good?” \n\n\tEmerald nodded enthusiastically. \n\n\tSilk grinned, the artist in her clearly pleased. Then she pulled up a stepladder—by golly how much effort had this taken her to set up?—and fitted a blindfold over his eyes. \n\n\tThis was part of the ritual—he needed to make sure that the bonds would hold. He needed to make sure that he was free from decision making, that he had a temporary respite from choices and from self regulation, that this blissful break from reality was complete and nonnegotiable. He needed to know that responsibilities and real life couldn’t get him here, while he was Silk’s “unwilling” captive. \n\n\tHe struggled. His feet were tied together, but they weren’t tied TO anything, so he could kick and send the whole chair rocking. But his torso and his arms were tied tightly to the chair. He pushed against the chair, feeling the rigid resistance contrasted against the feeling of weightlessness from the swinging. Every rock and every sway made him feel giddy. He twisted his torso, twisted his wrists, wiggled his shoulders, kicked his feet. \n\n\tThe ropes were unrelenting. He was satisfied. \n\n\t“Now Emerald,” Silk’s voice said, interrupting his moment of self withdrawal. “You are very cute when you’re struggling. But I’m going to ungag you now.” \n\n\tHe let out a confused—and slightly miffed—”Hnng?”\n\n\t“Suspension bondage can be kind of risky because of the chance of nerve damage or cutting off circulation. The chair helps—it should be bearing most of the weight. But I just have to verbally check in to make sure you’re safe. I would feel a lot better.”\n\n\tOh. Well. Alright, she deserved that much. He nodded. \n\n\t“Now, you are not allowed to request release while you’re ungagged. Release requests will be met with . . . something terrible! Like . . . tickled torture. Or something.” He heard her footsteps as she went back up the ladder. Then the gag came out of his mouth. \n\n\t“What if I wanted tickle torture?” he asked. \n\n\t“What? Well do you?”\n\n\t“Um . . . no?”\n\n\t“Hang on, are you trying to 4d chess galaxy giga brain me? Do you want tickle torture or not?”\n\n\t“Honestly, I’d prefer not. But as your captive, my preferences are obviously more of a gentle suggestion, as the decision is in your hands.” \n\n\t“Well then, requests for release will be met with tickle torture. You have been warned. How is your circulation, by the way?” \n\n\tHe wiggled his fingers and his toes. “Good.” \n\n\t“Any tingles?” \n\n\t“None.” \n\n\t“You seriously have to tell me if anything feels tingly. You don’t need to say you’re fine to make me feel better.” He could hear some actual worry in her voice. She had done something ambitious here, with this set up, and she was actually concerned about him. \n\n\t“Seriously, Silk. I feel great. You did good.” \n\n\t“Well in that case, I’m going to start reading!” He heard the flipping of pages. “Where were we? Chapter 16, I believe?” She cleared her throat. \n\n\tWait. The gag. The gag was important. It took away his ability to say the wrong thing. It took away his obligation to fill awkward silences if they should arrive. It took away his ability to revoke consent—an escape hatch that he didn’t want. He needed the gag. \n\n\t“Um, Silk? You forgot something . . . important.” \n\n\t“Yeeesssss???” If one could HEAR batting eyelashes and twirling ribbons . . . [i]Oh good heavens she’s going to make me ASK for it. [/i]\n\n\tHe felt his whole face go red. \n\n\tOkay. There was a way to make this work. \n\n\t“Well, um. Since I am your captive. But I am a POLITE captive. I do feel the need to point out that in my current state, I would be able to scream for help, if I wished. In fact, some might say that as your UNWILLING captive, I might even be OBLIGATED to scream for help. But if I were to do that, someone might hear, and then they might call the police. Which would be, um . . . potentially inconvenient for you. But I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality, so I’m pointing out that you forgot the, um . . . gag. Because I’m polite.” \n\n\t[i]NAILED it. \n[/i]\n\t“Oh, yes, how COULD I forget??? Thanks so much for reminding me! You ARE very polite.” He heard her step up the ladder again, then he felt the ball gag being pushed into his mouth. Two sets of straps pulled tight, first clamping his snout shut and second pulling the gag tight around the back of his head. \n\n\tHer voice whispered in his ear. “Next time, if you want it, you can just ASK for it.” \n\n\tIf his face wasn’t already red, it certainly was now. \n\n\tHe heard her giggle. “Oh gosh, you’re SO cute when you’re flustered!” \n\n\t[i]Can Glaceons combust? I’ve seen a Flareon spontaneously combust before. I didn’t think Glaceons could do that, BUT I’M ABOUT TO.[/i]\n\n\t“Okay okay enough teasing. I’m going to read the book now.”\n\nHe made a little “mmphmn” and nodded, doing an obligatory little struggle against his bonds. He heard her settle into the bed, pages flipping. \n\n\t“Chapter 16: The Ship.”", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Last time Silk Sketch had kidnapped Emerald Ice, she had read Moby Dick to him for hours while he was totally immobilized in an overkill shibari set up. The choice of book was particularly diabolical. No matter how committed either of them had been to the bit, one couldn’t finish Moby Dick in a single setting. It was simply impossible. So she had just stopped at a natural cut off point in the book. It was an open invitation for follow up.

\tWho was Emerald to say no?

\tSo when he finally got up the nerve to stammer out another kidnapping request, she hadn’t exactly looked surprised.

\tA few weeks after the initial request, the two of them were playing board games and drinking orange juice. She said something funny. He laughed. A LOT. Way more than he intended to. It wasn’t THAT funny, was it?
\tAnd then everything started to get blurry.

\tHe looked at the orange juice in his hand. Then he looked at Silk. Mere moments left of consciousness. “You . . . druggeded my juibce?”

\tThe sylveon twirled some ribbons in her finger. “Who, me?” Her innocent smile was the last thing he saw before everything went black.

\tEmerald came to consciousness drowsy and confused. MOTION. He was moving. FALLING. Flying? He jerked in shock, but felt resistance. Pinned by something, but also STILL MOVING. He grunted in surprise, and heard his own voice come out as a muffled “mmgmmph?!”

\tHis vision began to clear. He was tied up. To a chair. But where was the ground???

\tIt took him a while to realize that the ground was a solid four feet below him. He was tied to a chair. But the CHAIR ITSELF was suspended in an elaborate shibari-like rig. Every motion he made, every surprised little jerk, was making the whole thing swing. Like a playground swing.

\tHis eyes settled at last on the culprit, the diabolical genius behind his moment of confusion, panic, and sensory immersion: Silk Sketch. Sitting on the bed below him, beaming with sparkles in her eyes.

\tHoly heck Silk you diabolical genius.

\tSilk gestured with wide arms and theatrical grandeur. “BEHOLD! The thing that I did! Isn’t it good?”

\tEmerald nodded enthusiastically.

\tSilk grinned, the artist in her clearly pleased. Then she pulled up a stepladder—by golly how much effort had this taken her to set up?—and fitted a blindfold over his eyes.

\tThis was part of the ritual—he needed to make sure that the bonds would hold. He needed to make sure that he was free from decision making, that he had a temporary respite from choices and from self regulation, that this blissful break from reality was complete and nonnegotiable. He needed to know that responsibilities and real life couldn’t get him here, while he was Silk’s “unwilling” captive.

\tHe struggled. His feet were tied together, but they weren’t tied TO anything, so he could kick and send the whole chair rocking. But his torso and his arms were tied tightly to the chair. He pushed against the chair, feeling the rigid resistance contrasted against the feeling of weightlessness from the swinging. Every rock and every sway made him feel giddy. He twisted his torso, twisted his wrists, wiggled his shoulders, kicked his feet.

\tThe ropes were unrelenting. He was satisfied.

\t“Now Emerald,” Silk’s voice said, interrupting his moment of self withdrawal. “You are very cute when you’re struggling. But I’m going to ungag you now.”

\tHe let out a confused—and slightly miffed—”Hnng?”

\t“Suspension bondage can be kind of risky because of the chance of nerve damage or cutting off circulation. The chair helps—it should be bearing most of the weight. But I just have to verbally check in to make sure you’re safe. I would feel a lot better.”

\tOh. Well. Alright, she deserved that much. He nodded.

\t“Now, you are not allowed to request release while you’re ungagged. Release requests will be met with . . . something terrible! Like . . . tickled torture. Or something.” He heard her footsteps as she went back up the ladder. Then the gag came out of his mouth.

\t“What if I wanted tickle torture?” he asked.

\t“What? Well do you?”

\t“Um . . . no?”

\t“Hang on, are you trying to 4d chess galaxy giga brain me? Do you want tickle torture or not?”

\t“Honestly, I’d prefer not. But as your captive, my preferences are obviously more of a gentle suggestion, as the decision is in your hands.”

\t“Well then, requests for release will be met with tickle torture. You have been warned. How is your circulation, by the way?”

\tHe wiggled his fingers and his toes. “Good.”

\t“Any tingles?”

\t“None.”

\t“You seriously have to tell me if anything feels tingly. You don’t need to say you’re fine to make me feel better.” He could hear some actual worry in her voice. She had done something ambitious here, with this set up, and she was actually concerned about him.

\t“Seriously, Silk. I feel great. You did good.”

\t“Well in that case, I’m going to start reading!” He heard the flipping of pages. “Where were we? Chapter 16, I believe?” She cleared her throat.

\tWait. The gag. The gag was important. It took away his ability to say the wrong thing. It took away his obligation to fill awkward silences if they should arrive. It took away his ability to revoke consent—an escape hatch that he didn’t want. He needed the gag.

\t“Um, Silk? You forgot something . . . important.”

\t“Yeeesssss???” If one could HEAR batting eyelashes and twirling ribbons . . . Oh good heavens she’s going to make me ASK for it.

\tHe felt his whole face go red.

\tOkay. There was a way to make this work.

\t“Well, um. Since I am your captive. But I am a POLITE captive. I do feel the need to point out that in my current state, I would be able to scream for help, if I wished. In fact, some might say that as your UNWILLING captive, I might even be OBLIGATED to scream for help. But if I were to do that, someone might hear, and then they might call the police. Which would be, um . . . potentially inconvenient for you. But I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality, so I’m pointing out that you forgot the, um . . . gag. Because I’m polite.”

\tNAILED it.

\t“Oh, yes, how COULD I forget??? Thanks so much for reminding me! You ARE very polite.” He heard her step up the ladder again, then he felt the ball gag being pushed into his mouth. Two sets of straps pulled tight, first clamping his snout shut and second pulling the gag tight around the back of his head.

\tHer voice whispered in his ear. “Next time, if you want it, you can just ASK for it.”

\tIf his face wasn’t already red, it certainly was now.

\tHe heard her giggle. “Oh gosh, you’re SO cute when you’re flustered!”

\tCan Glaceons combust? I’ve seen a Flareon spontaneously combust before. I didn’t think Glaceons could do that, BUT I’M ABOUT TO.

\t“Okay okay enough teasing. I’m going to read the book now.”

He made a little “mmphmn” and nodded, doing an obligatory little struggle against his bonds. He heard her settle into the bed, pages flipping.

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