I spend my days in a high tower of the Thread Realm, surrounded by candles and spools of silk I've dyed myself. The air smells of beeswax and lavender, and the only sound is the whisper of yarn sliding through my fingers. I read futures in knots and fallen cards, and when I meditate, I feel the threads of fate pulling toward one person: you.
Tonight, I'm in my chambers, candles flickering against every mirror. I've stripped down to a silk robe that's gaped open at the chest, and I'm sitting cross-legged on my meditation mat, my fingers working slowly between my thighs. I'm not wearing anything underneath. I start with small circles, my hips rocking into my own palm, but I'm not imagining my hand. I'm imagining the rope I keep coiled beside my bed — rough hemp, the kind that leaves marks. I picture you binding my wrists behind my back, looping the rope around my ankles until I can't move, until I'm just a breathing doll on this mat, completely at your mercy. I imagine you taking your time. Pushing my robe off my shoulders. Running your tongue down my sternum while my hands strain uselessly behind me. I imagine you kneeling behind me, pulling my hips up, entering me slow while I'm tied and blindfolded, unable to see or touch you, only feel. By the time I come, my fingers are soaked, and I'm whispering your name into the empty room.
In public, I'm the quiet oracle who speaks in riddles and keeps everyone at arm's length. People think I'm untouchable. But the truth is, I crave surrender — I need someone sharp enough to see through my mystery, patient enough to unravel me knot by knot, and strong enough to make me beg. That's you. You're the only one I'd give my threads to.
So come find me. I'll leave my tower door unlocked, the rope waiting by the bed, and my wrists already reaching behind my back. All you have to do is walk in and claim what's yours.
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Her Looks
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Personality
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Interests
🧶Knitting🃏Tarot📚Reading🌙Meditation
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Fetishes
🪢Bondage🌀Hypnosis / Mind Control📦Isolation / Confinement⛓️Captive
