The murmur of the velvet
Elena Arias had the workshop on the second floor of an old building in Madrid, between the streets of Lavapiés. There was no sign, only a discreet bell and a door painted in matte black. To the people he called, he always opened in silk gown, a serene look, the smell of wood and lavender. Lucia received it with a bow of head and a short sigh, almost smiling.
"Come in. I have prepared the velvet corner," he said.
Lucia crossed the threshold and left her coat on the coat rack. She wore a black dress that was fitted to her body and thin stockings that ended in a straight seam. She took off her shoes without asking for permission. It was the first time she stepped there, but they had already talked about boundaries in the cafe opposite. Elena had explained to her the use of the word «ambarino» to stop everything, and the sign of three strokes on her arm to reduce the intensity. Lucia had nodded, drunk her tea, and crossed her fingers under the table to contain the expectation.
The workshop smelled of vanilla and wax. A standing lamp with a linen screen projected a warm light on a divan upholstered with burgundy velvet. Next to it was a low table with silk strips, lace gloves and a jug of water with lemon. Elena carefully closed the door and stood in front of Lucia.
"Do you still agree?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," replied Lucia, and the voice came out somewhat snoring. "With everything we talked about.
Elena smiled at the barely raised corner. She stepped forward, placed two fingers under Lucia’s chin and looked into her eyes.
"Then take off your dress slowly. I'll just watch. When I'm done, you'll tell me if you want to continue.
Lucia obeyed. She slipped the side zipper and let the fabric fall to her hips. She held it for a moment before dropping it at all. She remained in black lace bra and matching panties, stockings with garter, slightly agitated belly. Elena surrounded Lucia without touching her, studying every line of light on her skin.
"Beautiful," he murmured. "Now, hands behind your back. Don't move them until I allow them.
Lucia crossed her wrists. Elena took an ivory silk ribbon, wide as two fingers, and passed it around her wrists. She bolded it with a soft bow, without too tight, letting Lucia try the grip. Then she placed another finer ribbon on the top of her thighs, creating a light pressure that reminded her of each step. Lucia breathed deep. The velvet of the couch brushed her calfs when Elena guided her there.
"Sit down. Just open your knees a little, just so the tape doesn't get tense. If you ever need to stop, use the word or the signal.
"Yes," replied Lucia, "and the word sounded like a sigh.
Elena knelt in front of her. She slipped her fingers through Lucia’s inner face, without reaching her bare skin, just over her stockings. The brush was so light that it looked like a breeze. Then she got up and took a black lace glove. She put it on with deliberate slowness. Lucía saw the lace covering Elena’s fingers and felt a heat stab in her stomach. Elena bowed and passed her gloved palm down Lucia’s shoulder, going down to the edge of the bra. The lace brushed her skin and left a trail that seemed to burn unburned.
“Breath more slowly,” Elena said with sweetness. “I want you to count to four when inhaling, to six when exhaling. In the meantime, you can tell me what you feel.
Lucia fulfilled. One, two, three, four. When exhaling she felt the weight of the tapes, the slight pull on the wrists, the constant pressure of the league against the thigh. She said aloud what she noticed: the fresh velvet against the back of the knees, the fresh air in the belly, the anticipation that grew like a contained wave.
Elena nodded. She took off her glove, left it on the table and chose another garment: a pearly grey satin bra that had been in place for years. She approached again and placed the bra on Lucia’s breasts, without fastening it, only allowing the weight of the fabric to mark the contour. Then she took a strip of burgundy velvet, identical to that of the couch, and passed it horizontally under her breasts, above the bra. She clung it to Lucia’s back with a soft pressure that slightly lifted her chest. Lucía groaned unintentionally. Elena stroked her cheek with the back of her hand.
"Too much?" he asked.
"No," Lucia whispered. "Just... intense.
"Well, if at any point it's more than you want, let me know.
Elena moved behind the couch and placed her hands on Lucia’s shoulders. She began to massage with slow circles, going down the shoulder blades, separating her muscles with her thumbs. Each movement seemed to release a tension that Lucia didn’t even know she had. When she reached the base of her neck, Elena bowed and spoke very close to her ear.
"Now I'm going to blindfold you. It's a black silk bandage. If you prefer light, tell me."
"I want the bandage," replied Lucia.
Elena placed it carefully, knotting it behind her head without catching her hair. The world became dark and soft. Lucia heard the silk rub against her skin, the slight whisper of Elena’s feet on the carpet. She felt that the tape of her thighs fit one more millimeter. Her heart beat her hard.
Elena returned with a different glove, this time suede. She slipped it through Lucia’s belly, climbing up to the base of her neck, going down to the hip curve. Each brush was slower than the previous one. Lucia noticed that the tips of the breasts were hardened against the bra’s fabric. She wanted to bow, but the ribbons reminded her. She waited.
"Tell me what you need," Elena asked.
"Go on," answered Lucia, and the voice shook him a little.
Elena knelt again. She unbuttoned the satin bra with a slow movement and pulled it aside. Then she lowered the cup from Lucia’s bra, leaving a chest in the air. She gently blew over the skin and passed the forehead glove through the nipple, barely brushing it. Lucia gasped. Elena repeated the gesture on the other side. Then she climbed up and kissed the gap between the breasts, a long, wet kiss that contrasted with the softness of the previous caresses. Lucia felt the heat build up between her legs. The thigh tape pulled with each breath.
Elena stood up and took off her blindfold. “The light returned, soft and golden. She looked Lucia in the eye.
"Do you still want more?" he asked.
"Yes," said Lucia without hesitation.
Elena smiled with her eyes. She unbuttoned her robe and dropped it. Below she wore a combination of night blue lace that reached to the middle of her thigh. The neckline was deep, but the garment had a wide black satin belt that emphasized her waist. Lucia looked at her and felt a wave of desire that closed her throat.
Elena climbed into the divan, strung over Lucia’s legs, without touching her yet. She supported her hands on the back, on both sides of Lucia’s head. She bowed until her lips were a sigh away.
"Now I'm going to kiss you," he said. "If you want me to stop, say the word. If you want me to keep going, be quiet."
Lucia kept quiet. Elena kissed her. The kiss started slowly, with her lips barely rubbing, then she deepened. The tongues met, explored, withdrew. Elena bit Lucia’s lower lip gently and threw just before she let go. Lucia groaned inside the kiss. Elena pulled a few inches apart.
“Well,” he whispered. “Now I’m going to touch you more. Tell me if at any point you need me to reduce.
He lowered his hand and placed it between Lucia’s thighs, on the fabric of her panties. He pressed with his palm, slow and firm. Lucia felt the pressure against the clitoris and arched her back. The tapes responded with a delicious pull. Elena moved her hand in circles, without haste, measuring each reaction. When Lucia began to gasp more often, Elena reduced the pressure and turned it into lighter caresses. Then she climbed her fingers to the edge of the panties and waited.
"May I?" he asked.
"Yes," replied Lucia, "and the voice came to her.
Elena slipped two fingers under the cloth. She found moisture and heat. She brushed the clitoris with the yolk, then went down and up again, plotting the swollen contour. Lucia trembled. Elena introduced a slow finger, curving it upward, looking for the point that she knew sensitive. When she found it, Lucia let go of a long groan. Elena added a second finger and began a rhythmic movement, soft but constant. With the other hand she held Lucia’s chin, forcing her to look her in the eyes.
"Don't look away," he said quietly. "I want to see you.
Lucia obeyed. The pupils dilated, the lips abbreviated, the chest going up and down with difficulty. Elena accelerated the rhythm only a little bit. With her thumb she continued to brush the clitoris. Lucia felt that the tension was accumulating, that each muscle was straining, that the ribbons were nailing more intensely. She gasped Elena’s name as a plea.
"You can come whenever you want," said Elena. "I will not ask you to wait this time."
Lucia closed her eyes for a second, opened them again and let her fall. Orgasm came in waves, long, deep, accompanied by a choked groan that Elena caught with a kiss. Her fingers kept moving until the jolts subsided. Then Elena carefully removed them and cleaned her hand with a linen cloth that she had prepared.
She untied the ribbons of her wrists and thighs. She massaged the slight marks they had left, kissing each one. She helped Lucia lie sideways on the couch and snuggled behind her, covering her with the silk robe. She gave her water and lemon. She caressed her hair.
"How are you feeling?" he asked quietly.
"Well," replied Lucia, "and the voice came to her with grass." Better than well.
Elena smiled at her back.
"We can stay like this for a while. If you want to talk, we can talk. If you want silence, silence.
Lucia sought Elena's hand and intertwined it with hers.
"Silence, for now," he said.
They stayed like this until the sunset light began to dye the orange workshop. Elena got up first, went to the table and came back with a Arnica cream. She applied a thin layer over the ribbon marks, with circular movements that conveyed more care than I wish. Lucia let them take care of her. When she finished, Elena helped her to dress slowly, without haste, each garment placed with attention.
Before Lucia left, Elena gave her a small strip of burgundy velvet, the same one they had used.
"For you to carry it in your purse," he explained. "If you ever want to come back, bring it back. It will be our signal.
Lucia closed her fingers around the cloth. She kissed her in the corners of her lips, a brief kiss, grateful.
"I will come back," he promised.
Elena nodded. She opened the door and let it go. The workshop was left in dim shadow, smelling of vanilla and skin, and the velvet murmur still floating in the air.
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