Please Harder, Professor

Chapter 181

Adrian’s POV

I spent two hours preparing the Red Room before Sophie came home. This wasn't going to be like our previous sessions—tonight I wanted to show her something new, something that required absolute trust.

Something that would bind us together in a way words couldn't.

The suspension rig was already installed in the ceiling—I'd had it put in months ago but never used it. Tonight felt like the right time.

The ropes I'd chosen were soft but strong, dyed a deep crimson that would look beautiful against Sophie's skin. I'd studied shibari techniques for weeks, practiced the knots until I could tie them blindfolded, because I needed this to be perfect.

When Sophie entered, she stopped in the doorway, her eyes going wide as she took in the setup.

"Adrian, what is all this?"

"Something new," I said, moving toward her. "If you're willing. If you trust me."

Her gaze traveled from the suspension point on the ceiling to the coiled ropes laid out with precision, to the harness waiting on the bench. "You want to suspend me?"

"Partially. Not fully airborne—I wouldn't do that without more training. But enough that the ropes support some of your weight, create pressure and sensation in ways you've never felt before."

I took her hand. "It's called shibari. The ropes become part of the experience—decorative and functional. Beautiful and binding."

"I don't know if I…"

"We'll go slow," I promised. "I'll explain everything before I do it. You can stop at any time. Say your safe word and I'll have you down in seconds."

Sophie bit her lip, considering. Then she nodded. "Okay. Show me."

I started by explaining the harness—where each rope would go, how it would distribute her weight, which knots would bear the load and which were purely aesthetic. I showed her the suspension point, demonstrated how the pulley system worked, let her test the strength of the rope herself.

"The most important thing is trust," I said, my hands framing her face. "You have to trust that I know what I'm doing. That I'll keep you safe. Can you give me that?"

"Yes," she whispered.

I helped her undress slowly, reverently, until she stood naked before me. Then I picked up the first length of rope.

"This is going to wrap around your torso," I explained, demonstrating the path it would take. "It'll create a chest harness that distributes pressure evenly. Tell me if anything feels too tight or uncomfortable."

I began the process methodically, speaking softly as I worked. The rope slid over her skin in smooth coils, each wrap precise, each knot secure but not constricting.

I created a pattern across her chest and around her back—functional support disguised as art.

"You're doing so well," I murmured, checking the tension. "How does it feel?"

"Strange," Sophie admitted. "But not bad. Kind of... grounding?"

"That's exactly right. The pressure helps you focus, helps you be present in your body." I moved to the next section, binding her upper arms loosely to her sides—not restricting movement entirely, just limiting it. Making her aware of every shift.

The process took nearly twenty minutes. I worked with patient focus, explaining each step, asking for feedback, making small adjustments.

By the time I finished, Sophie was bound in an intricate web of crimson rope—beautiful patterns crisscrossing her torso, secure knots bearing the structural load, decorative coils accentuating her curves.

"Look at yourself," I said, turning her toward the mirror.

Sophie gasped. The ropes transformed her into living art—the deep red stark against her pale skin, the geometric patterns highlighting rather than hiding her body. She looked powerful and vulnerable simultaneously.

"You're beautiful when being so resposive," I said, and meant it completely.

I attached the suspension point to the harness, then began gradually taking up the slack. Sophie's breathing quickened as she felt the rope tighten, as her weight began shifting from her feet to the harness.

"I'm going to lift you just a bit," I warned. "Not off the ground entirely, but enough that you're standing on your toes. You'll feel the pressure redistribute. Tell me if it's too much."

I raised her slowly, watching her face for any sign of distress. When she was balanced perfectly—toes barely touching the floor, most of her weight supported by the rope—she made a sound that was half gasp, half moan.

"Oh my God," she breathed. "That's… I can feel everything."

The position made her hyper-aware of every sensation. Gravity and rope worked together, creating pressure in places she'd never experienced before. Every tiny movement sent waves of sensation through her body.

I circled her slowly, checking the ropes, admiring my work. Then I retrieved the ice I'd prepared.

"Now," I said, trailing the ice cube down her spine, "we play."

Sophie's whole body jerked against the restraints, the movement limited but intensified by her position. I traced the ice across her shoulders, down between her breasts, around each nipple until they peaked hard.

The cold water ran down her skin, and I followed it with my tongue, savoring the taste of her.

I could rotate her in the suspension, adjust her angle, access every part of her with ease. When I positioned her slightly forward, tilting her hips, she was completely exposed to me, completely vulnerable.

"Adrian, please…" Her voice was already breaking with need.

"Not yet," I murmured, replacing the ice with feathers, dragging them across her sensitized skin. Light, teasing touches that made her squirm and gasp. Then my hands, firm and possessive, mapping every curve, every place the ropes pressed into her flesh.

When I finally touched her intimately, she was already trembling. I worked her slowly, methodically, knowing exactly where and how to touch to drive her higher. Suspended like this, she couldn't escape my hands, couldn't pull away or press closer. She was completely at my mercy.

"You're perfect like this," I told her, my voice rough with desire. "Bound and beautiful and mine. Say it, Sophie. Tell me who you belong to."

"You," she gasped. "I belong to you and you only."

I increased the pressure, the pace, built her up higher and higher. Her body was taut with tension, the ropes biting into her skin as she strained against them. Every sound she made went straight through me.

When I finally pushed her over the edge, still suspended, still bound, the intensity was overwhelming. She came with my name on her lips, her whole body shuddering in the ropes, completely surrendered to the sensation.

I held her through it, supporting her, murmuring praise and comfort as the aftershocks rolled through her. Only when she went limp did I begin lowering her carefully, easing her weight back onto solid ground.

The removal of the ropes was just as deliberate as their application. I untied each knot with care, checking her skin for marks, massaging circulation back into any areas that needed it.

When she was finally free, I gathered her into my arms and carried her to the thick mat on the floor, settling us both down.

Sophie's body bore the temporary imprints of the rope—red lines crisscrossing her skin in patterns that would fade by morning. I traced them with my fingertips, following each line like reading braille.

"You're art," I murmured. "My art."

Sophie's eyes were still glazed, her breathing uneven. She looked up at me with an expression I couldn't quite read—satisfaction mixed with something that looked almost like fear.

"I'm in too deep," she whispered.

"What?"

"To ever leave. I'm in too deep now." Her voice was raw, vulnerable. "This—you—the way you make me feel. I'm addicted to it, Adrian. I don't know if that's love or obsession or just... I don't know. But I can't walk away from it. From you."

Something fierce and possessive surged through me. "Good," I said, pulling her closer. "Because I'm never letting you go."

We lay tangled together in the aftermath, and I knew with absolute certainty that whatever else happened, whatever challenges we faced, this connection between us was unbreakable.

Sophie was mine. Completely, irrevocably mine.

And I would do whatever it took to keep her.