“Are you nervous, pet?” Kurt asks, head perched on Blaine’s shoulder while they wait for their instructors to appear. “Because you seem nervous to me.”

“Maybe a little, Sir.” Blaine crosses his arms over his waist and grabs Kurt’s hands where they rest on his hips. He tugs gently and Kurt obliges, wrapping his arms around Blaine’s torso from behind, hugging him to help him feel more secure. “There’s more people here than I thought there would be.” Blaine sweeps his eyes around at the twenty or so couples gathered - talking, laughing, holding one another the way Kurt and Blaine are. Some seem to prefer a more formal stance, the Dominant party standing or sitting with their submissive kneeling or bowed low beside them. One of those couples repeatedly draws Blaine’s focus - Dom standing, legs apart, arms folded over his chest, while his male submissive bows on the floor, shirtless to display the black shoulder straps of the cock lock harness he’s wearing. The Dom keeps glancing over at them, and not in a casual way. He’s making deliberate eye contact, looking Blaine over from head to toe, and then at Kurt in a challenging way.

Kurt doesn’t seem to notice. Blaine doesn’t acknowledge the man’s inappropriate staring, keeping his own eyes on the floor, but they occasionally shift to the man’s submissive. Blaine knows what sort of harness he’s wearing because Blaine has worn one himself. Personally, Blaine thinks that displaying it that way is tacky. It would be like Kurt making Blaine keep his fly undone to show off his cage.

“This happens to be one of the most popular Shibari workshops in the country, pet,” Kurt explains with unmistakable excitement. “I’ve wanted to go to one forever. And now I’m here, all thanks to you.”

“To me, Sir?” Blaine peeks over his shoulder, his cheek rubbing Kurt’s. “Why thanks to me?”

“Because I only wanted to come here with a true partner, pet. Someone that I not only respected as a submissive, but that I loved. And here you are. So thank you, pet. Thank you for making this possible.”

Kurt turns Blaine into his embrace and kisses him. And as much as Blaine wants to melt into his Dom’s arms and enjoy that kiss, he feels the other Dom’s eyes burning into his back.

It’s off-putting.

“Welcome, welcome, welcome!”

A man’s voice rises above the murmuring of the crowd. Kurt turns Blaine back around as their instructors arrive. Blaine is amused by the difference between the two people entering the room. The male half of the pair looks like he could be in his early sixties, but only judging by his face. He stands roughly an inch or two over six feet. He’s muscular, but in that sense that he must have spent his entire life working with his body, and not in a gym either. His tan, slightly leathery skin, seems to attest to that fact. His white teeth shine like a beacon when he opens his mouth, and his blue eyes smile when he smiles.

His assistant - an elegantly beautiful and petite woman who Blaine wouldn’t dare try to pin an age to - is barely five foot if she’s an inch, wearing a red one-piece leotard that glows against her bronze skin. She has dark hair braided down her back with a red cord woven in. She doesn’t smile as wide as her counterpart, but she has a very kind and comforting face.

Upon seeing them from afar for a grand total of one minute, Blaine decides that he likes the two of them immediately. By their presence alone, Blaine feels more relaxed.

They stop front and center of the room to address their audience. The man motions with his hands to settle a rising tide of light applause.

“Thank you all so much, Doms, subs, husbands, wives, and friends, for joining us for our Fourteenth Annual Shibari Retreat. My name is Kevin, and my assistant today will be Nonni. For members of our D/s community, Nonni is neither a Dominant nor a submissive. She’s just a very flexible friend who has offered to be my helper, so let’s show her some love before we begin.”

The room erupts again with a round of polite but enthusiastic applause, and Nonni bows.

“Also,” Kevin continues, “as was stated on our website, we want our participants to be as comfortable as possible, so feel free to remove clothing as you see fit, as long as you do not invade anyone else’s personal space. Respect is paramount here. Anyone showing disrespect to another participant will be asked to leave.”

Murmurs of agreement travel through the room. The Dom who’s been staring Blaine and Kurt down wastes no time stripping off his shirt, and then removes his sub’s pants, for pretty much no reason whatsoever.

That blatantly aggressive a display turns Blaine’s stomach, but it also makes him thankful that he found such a caring and wonderful man like Kurt to be his Dominant. Of course, Blaine doesn’t know what kind of arrangement those men have. He doesn’t want to assume that that Dom would do anything his submissive hadn’t agreed to beforehand. To each his own, Kurt always says. How you live your life and what you bring to bed is your own business, as long as you’re not hurting someone else or infringing on their rights. Blaine tries to incorporate that into his thinking as much as he can. It has required him to work through some deeply entrenched prejudices, ones that he never realized he had.

Blaine tries not to be too hard on himself when he fails. Kurt says he should consider himself a work in progress. If he slips up, just move forward, and try harder next time. Ignoring this man and his treatment of his sub is good practice for that.

But it would be easier if the man would keep his eyes to himself.

“Come on, pet,” Kurt says, feeling Blaine’s shoulders tense. “Try to relax. We’re having fun, remember?”

“Here you guys go,” Nonni says, handing Kurt a skein of green rope.

“Thank you.” Kurt takes it, eyes lighting up like he’s just opened the greatest Christmas present ever. He unwinds it, holds it in both hands and yanks on it to test its strength. “Wow, this is some nice rope.”

Blaine chuckles softly at his Dom’s behavior. He’s not used to seeing Kurt so giddy, and regardless of a little discomfort, Blaine couldn’t be happier that they’re there together.  

“Alright,” Kevin says, “does everybody have their rope? Yes … yes … good! We’re going to start off with some simple gauntlets so you can get a feel for how this rope works. Just pick your favorite body part, and let’s have a go.”

Blaine hears nervous giggling, anxious shuffling, and mutters of, “No, no, no, that’s not right,” as the beginner beginners attempt to manipulate the rope while simultaneously following along with Kevin as he ties Nonni’s arms behind her back. A single rigger in the far corner already has her own legs tied together from ankles to knees. Blaine can’t help being impressed.

“Let me know right away if something hurts or pinches,” Kurt says, rounding behind Blaine to practice the same technique that Kevin is showing with Nonni.

“Yes, Sir.”

As soon as Kurt gets the rope around Blaine’s wrists, he focuses on trying to recreate the gauntlet the way Kevin demonstrates, regardless of the fact that he’s tied a gauntlet countless times. But the rope he’s using gets tangled in Blaine’s loose shirt. After a third attempt that ends with Blaine’s sleeves getting snagged, Kurt starts undressing Blaine, quickly, clinically, needing the lack of bunching fabric in order to make the gauntlet he’s working on fit correctly.

Blaine notices that there’s a great deal more skin on display overall in the room now, mostly from submissives whose Dominants are having the same issues as Kurt. Many of the female participants being tied are wearing leotards like Nonni’s. One or two are in their underwear. A brave female couple in the back row has gone topless, both rigger and bottom.

Blaine doesn’t look long. He’s not allowed, and it’s disrespectful. But even a cursory glance tells him that there are no shortage of striking bodies present.

A few eyes look their way as Kurt strips his sub down to his underwear, but most of those people are simply attracted to the new movement. One pair of eyes, however, lock on to Blaine’s and hold. Blaine flushes up his chest and neck, and looks away.

Kurt’s head snaps up as Blaine’s eyes snap down.

“What’s wrong, pet?” Kurt asks, giving Blaine his full attention. “Tell me.”

Blaine doesn’t launch right into it. He doesn’t want to admit that the other Dom’s staring makes him self-conscious. At the club, Dominants stare all the time, but that’s a different atmosphere. The rules are clearly defined. Blaine knows to expect it there. This studio, with its intermingle of D/s and vanilla people, here for a purpose that is both D/s and not, seems equally more PG-13 and more intimate than the club. Blaine skirts the issue, coming at it from an alternate angle.

“Nothing really, Sir. It’s just that the people here … they’re so … attractive.”

“So you’ve noticed,” Kurt says, giving his bashful submissive a wink.

“Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.” Blaine’s head drops, chin to his chest, his eyes on his feet, as if he’s trying to limit his world to just himself and his Dom. Blaine does this sometimes as a coping mechanism to head off a panic attack, and it has Kurt confused. He doesn’t understand what could bring on this reaction. This studio, these people, these instructors, they combine to create about as low key an environment as one can get. There’s no reason that Kurt can see as to why Blaine should feel uncomfortable here. But that’s not being fair to Blaine, Kurt knows. Kurt has to try and see things from his sub’s point of view. “It’s not a competition, pet,” he tries when he thinks he might see the trouble. Blaine has body issues. It’s been a constant in their relationship. It’s a logical assumption that that could be the thing that’s bothering him. “You, by far, are much more appealing than anyone in here. They’re just bodies, pet. But your body belongs to me, and I have to say, even if I weren’t completely biased, you definitely have the most enviable body in the room.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“But …” Kurt prompts, knowing that there’s a but in there somewhere.

“I … I don’t like them staring, or judging.”                                 

“They shouldn’t be staring at you at all,” Kurt growls. He looks up, turns his head. He finds the other Dom, gaze aimed shamelessly at Blaine while he ignores his own submissive untied on the floor.

Kurt’s lip curls. “Don’t you have some knots to tie?”

“Don’t you?” the other Dom fires back, obnoxious grin taking up ¾’s of his face.

Kurt rolls his eyes, moving a foot to the right to block the man’s view.

“Don’t worry about them judging you,” Kurt says, catching Blaine’s gaze so his eyes won’t wander. “Honestly, should their opinion matter to you?”

“No, Sir,” Blaine answers guiltily, because whether or not it should, the answer is it does. Being judged has been a huge part of Blaine’s life. Everything he’s done from kindergarten till now has been based on other people’s opinions of him – as a protégé, as an athlete, as valedictorian, as a teacher, and as a performer. Succeeding in life has stemmed on being able to make people like him, and his looks have been instrumental in that.

Kurt takes a step towards Blaine, walking as far into his personal space as he can, blocking out everyone – the man behind them, the other participants, the instructors at the front of the room.

“Don’t let unimportant people have an impact on how you feel, pet. Don’t let them ruin your fun. Don’t give them that power. This is your journey. Yours and mine. We’re taking it together. Those people? They don’t even exist in our world. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, Sir,” Blaine nods, obediently but sadly. “I do.”

“Good. You’re a good boy, Blaine,” Kurt says, knowing that Blaine’s not there yet, not completely reassured, but he needs the praise if he’s going to get there eventually. “Now, let’s get you tied up, and after I’m done, do you know what I intend on doing?”

“What, Sir?”

Kurt peeks over his shoulder to find that same Dom still staring, as if watching Kurt and Blaine is exactly what he spent his $1200 for. Kurt leans his forehead against Blaine’s so he can talk in a whisper.

“I’m going to hogtie asshat over there.”