She had always worn pretty dresses for me. With delicate fabrics, petticoats, frills, and lace. And of course the ribbons. I bought her ribbons of all colors; I enjoyed tying them for her. She would smile at me demurely, knowing the dark and perverse feelings her innocence brought out in me.

She had joked that I would like it if she wore nothing but ribbons. She had giggled and meant to laugh it off, but I couldn’t shake the thought. I called her and told her that once she was home, she was to remove all her clothes at the door and come directly to the bedroom. Her eyes grew wide when she saw the kaleidoscope of cloth I had sitting on the bed. Really, she had brought this onto herself.

I looked deep into her blue eyes. I whispered words of worship into her ear. I won’t repeat them. They belong only to her. A gentle kiss on the lips…

Then I wrapped her in ribbons.

She shivered as I grabbed her by the neck. A rough touch always made her eyes light up. And I pulled her into a sitting position. Combing her hair, I split it into two halves. One half was divided into three. And the first binding is in her hair. I weave a light blue ribbon in with the plaits. It matched her eyes.

The azure pops brilliantly from her light blonde hair. I tie the end with the remaining length of fabric, a delicate bow. Then the other side. And finally, I lay the two braids over her shoulders, the tips of the hair like arrows pointing down to her hard nipples.

Fuck, I want her now. I want to take her like this. But I have so many other pretty colors to dress her in, and her heart is fluttering so fast. This isn’t a time for animal need, not yet, at least. This should be savored.

I lay her down on the soft white blanket, she looks like an angel in the snow. Her eyes locked on me, watching as I took out two strips of every color, save yellow. This color is special to her and will be reserved for places of honor on her body.

I start mid-thigh. Red. I wrap it tightly around her so it presses into her skin and squeezes her. And then a bow. I move down the leg. Orange above the knee. Green underneath. Blue around her upper calf. Violet around the lower. Then to the other leg, mirroring the colors. I push her legs together and straighten the bows into straight lines down the tops of her legs. I smile at the sensual rainbow I have made.

“Still,” I command her. She had begun to squirm, rubbing her thighs together when there was so much more to do. She bites her lips, whimpers, and nods. She has to will her body motionless, though she can do nothing about the shaking. “Good girl.”

I take time to consider her arms and where they will be. I’m glad I did. Had I rushed, the end result would have been muddled. I start on her shoulder and move downward. This time in the reverse order of colors from her legs. Starting with violet above her bicep and ending with red just above her wrist. The bow is tied not on top, but below her arm. They rest against the bed while I see to the other side.

And now the master stroke. I tightly tie one wrist with a pink cord, leaving a long dangling piece. Then, taking both hands, I lift them up above her head. I run the length of rope between the slats of the headboard and then around her other wrist. With the final run of cord, I wrap her wrists together and tie the bow. Always a bow. She deserves pretty things.

And I lean back and look. With her arms above her head, matching the legs perfectly. And her breath starts to become frantic. The soft handfuls of her bosom heave, and those hard little nipples tighten even smaller, tempting me to abandon my task. She begs in the form of a question. “Are you done?” I shake my head no, and she lets out a longing cry.

She is rubbing her glistening thighs together. Time to put a stop to that. Using the pink cord, I wrap it around her foot, then her ankle, and finally tie it to the bedpost. Oh, how she cries when I take the other foot and pull it to the opposite side. Spreading her legs, preventing her even the relief of her own friction. I can see soft tears filling her eyes. She wants to beg, but she knows the answer.

Still, I give her one tease. It was as much for myself as for her, really. The smell of her sex was growing more intense, and her thighs sparkled with the slick juices she had spread with her pitiful rubbing. So I gift us both the touch of a fingertip and the bottom of her cunt. Immediately, her hips rise in the air, and the ropes that bind her feet and hands are tested. I draw it slowly upward till I brush a whisper over her clit. The bed creaks underneath her while she gasps and pulls against the ropes.

Those pretty blue eyes. Pleading as I tasted her juices. And I realize I’m also shaking. Desperately in want, thirsting to claim her body. But I am not done. Not yet.

One more rainbow. This one with long cuts of ribbon down her torso. The red above her tits cut tightly into her, spilling cleavage over the fabric. The orange underneath did the same, and her tender breasts grew pink from the pressure. And the last few across her tender belly. Green. Blue. Violet. I could feel her sharp breaths with each tightening of the ribbons.

And finally, the yellow ribbons. Her favorite color. The one I associate with her above all else. The color of sunflowers and honey. The day we met, she had worn a lemon sundress with a matching ribbon tying her ponytail. It had been lust at first sight.

The first yellow strip is placed around her hips. Flat and snug, right over her pretty little patch of curly hairs. Two more are laced down her hip, run around the crease of her groin, next to her dripping pussy, and back up. I pull them before I tie the bows, and she whimpers for me. She now wears a yellow harness with which I can position her as I like. I tug it into the air and raise her hips. She begs me to fuck her, it was almost a prayer.

Soon.

My hands are a mess of nerves. Trembling with restraint. But I only have one more. And this one will not need to be tied. Her eyes widen as I wrap it thrice around her throat, leaving two lengths of ribbon on either side of her neck. I test it with a pull on both sides. She gags as the ribbon cuts into her neck. Her eyes pleaded with me, desperately appealing to me for air.

I loosen the grip and look at her. My pretty little one, trussed up in nothing but colorful ribbons. She sees the look in my eye, and she knows. “G-gentle,” is all she whispers, knowing full well that I am no longer capable of that.

“You have your safety word,” I say behind gritted teeth. “You may need it.”

A whimper. A nod. And a moan of excitement.

I kiss her gently as I feel the last semblances of control snapping inside me.

She’s all tied up in ribbons. How could I stop myself?