You look at yourself in the mirror. The collar and bindings make it difficult to look anywhere else. I don’t want you trying to look away, even for a second. I want you to drink up the beauty of your bound body.
it’s an art work of control. Ropes bind your ankles to the mahogany legs, before snaking up the frame to lock your back against the upper of the chair. your hands have been bound in front of you, forcing you to push your perky tits together with your upper arms, like an unintentional attempt to impress me with their size.
The stiff leather collar finishes the look, clipped to the chair top to further restrain you. there’s no escape. I even bait you to struggle as I watch over you, but it’s no use. your movements are useless, doing nothing more than leaving purple kisses from the rope burn as you fight against your bonds. you’re my trapped little toy.
I introduce a toy. The vibrator first teases to your clit before being slid inside you. despite your best intentions, being so vulnerable to me has left your clean shaven pussy wet and eager to be played with.