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Please Support Our Generous Sponsors She looks cute in a sweater, especially when it’s not quite long enough to cover her butt cheeks. She looks even cuter when she is bound in chains. Around her body, her wrists and then to her ankles. And ballgagged. Struggling. Whimpering, And soon, moaning. The bondage pushing her sexual engine into high gear, keeping her warm on a cold winter’s night. Tonight she wouldn’t have it any other way. Well, maybe one more thing. But that’s another story.
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She was used to it by now. Shibari suspension bondage. Hanging from the wooden suspension frame, bound tightly, often tormented and teased. Not getting loose, not even able to touch the floor, spinning around. But this time was different. He had bound her low enough that she could touch the floor. Barely. Enough that she would think that there was something that she could do. To get loose. And to stop the torment. But she was wrong.
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After time as a glam model walking that runway, she thought she’d enjoy something that she thought would permit her to sit and relax. She got part of that right, she was sitting on the floor but what she was doing wasn’t relaxing – she was struggling to get loose from the ropes, to get that mouth-filling ballgag from between her soft wet lips. And, as she moved around, to realize that those noises were becoming moans. Her body and mind quickly telling her that she waned more.
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