Free Bondage Stories Novels & Stories

"That's not going to work." Sebastian smirked. "The handcuffs are infused with magic and can't be broken. They didn't hold that feral vampire, but they will hold you." Helena stared at him defiantly, refusing to give in. Sebastian laughed as he watched her struggle.

“Yes… I’m yours.” “Good girl.” He rolled her onto her stomach and pulled her wrists behind her back. With the soft black ribbon that had been part of her auction outfit, he tied her hands together , not painfully tight, but secure enough that she couldn’t pull free. The light bondage made her feel deliciously helpless and heightened every sensation. Mikhail knelt behind her, spreading her knees wide on the silk sheets. He ran two fingers through her cum-filled pussy, scooping up some of his own seed before pushing it back inside her. “Look at that. Already leaking my cum. But we’re just getting started.”

He grabbed my wrists and tied them behind my back with my own soaked panties that he picked from the floor. The fabric was cool and tight against my skin, cutting off all circulation. His hand fisted in my hair, and he yanked it hard, forcing my back to arch. My scalp burned, tits pushed out, nipples hard and aching. “Fuck, will you look at that,” He said, voice thick with lust. “Two pretty pink tight holes. They’re both gonna get their fill of this cock.” He pressed the fat, slick head of his cock against my asshole. It burned as he pushed in. The stretch was intense, way more than my pussy. I gasped and whimpered, my body tensing.

I felt exposed, vulnerable, and completely under his control in the middle of the room where millions of dollars were negotiated every day. "Open for me," he commanded. I didn't hesitate. I pulled my legs back, hooking my heels over the edge of the table, exposing myself to the harsh fluorescent lights above. Vincent stepped into the space I’d created, his body a wall of heat. He didn't use finesse. He didn't use a condom. He guided himself to the entrance of my heat and pushed in with a slow, agonizing force that made me cry out, the sound bouncing off the glass walls.

“Several. And every time, it was your face I saw. That sound you made when you came. The way you trembled under the rope. I’ve thought about it nonstop.” My knees nearly buckle. Then he pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. “Tonight, I want to bind your arms. Wrap a hip harness around you. Frog tie those gorgeous legs back where you can't move. How’s that sound?” I swallow hard. “Can we do the diamond shorts?” His grin is immediate. “Hell yes. Your ass would look so fucking good in them.” He walks over to the wall of rope and starts selecting pieces, laying them out with practiced ease.

Until then, I was trapped here, touching myself for strangers and counting every tip. I slipped a hand under my t-shirt, idly playing with my nipple as the movie played on. The ache between my legs was already coming back. I kept teasing my nipple under my shirt, rolling it between my fingers as the couple on the TV fucked passionately. My pussy was getting wet again, that familiar ache building. The money from the call still had me buzzing… $700 just for riding a dildo and moaning like a slut. I wondered if HotFantasy88 would message again soon. Part of me hoped he would.

“Master— you taste so good— I love your cock— please use my mouth—” He came down her throat with a raw groan, holding her head gently while she swallowed every drop. They barely stopped. He fucked her again on her back, legs over his shoulders. Then from behind, spanking her ass red while she pushed back against him, begging for more. Between rounds they talked softly. She admitted how freeing it felt to let go. How she’d never felt this safe and this owned at the same time. He confessed how long he’d wanted her like this — how he’d jerked off thinking about her on her knees for months.

Nana Spending nights thinking about a masseur you met just once was a bad habit. But when have I ever said I had a good habit? I had always dreamt of being touched every day by different men. I didn't like being touched twice by the same man, variety was the only thing that kept me interested— so I tended to book different masseurs every single time I went for a massage. But Conan's hands felt so good, they were an addiction I didn't want to break. For the first time, I wanted only one pair of hands on me.