Handcuffs Near Me Novels & Stories

Hunter flicked her clit and she moaned. "Hunter, please. I'm too wound up for you to stop," Irene pleaded and moved her hand to her pussy but Hunter stopped her and placed her hand behind her head. "I'm going to have to bind those impatient hands of yours, alright?" He told her and opened his glove compartment in one hand then brought out a pair of cuffs. Irene looked at the handcuffs then back at Hunter. "Is that necessary?" She gasped. "I can't trust your hands yet, darling," he answered as he placed her hand inside and looped the chains on the headrest then proceeded on the other.

Adrian was quicker to move compared to the girls, but he won't get out of this so easily. “Where do you think you're going?” I ask softly, but he doesn't respond. I nod scanning the room as I await his excuse but nothing comes, but at least something shimmering in his left-hand catches my attention. Handcuffs, he has another pair in his hand and of course, he planned to use them. I look at the bed with revulsion, or maybe that's how much I've had to drink tonight but nonetheless, I don’t let it illustrate.

She whimpers, "don't stop!" Oh beg, baby beg! "One moment Annabell. Patience." I soothe her restlessness, and pick up a pair of leather cuffs from my bag. The naughty bag. The BDSM bag. The cuffs are attached to each other by a small silver chain, and close with the help of buckles. Much more comfortable than proper metal handcuffs. I reach for one of Annabell's delicate wrists and attach the leather strap around the tiny limb, moving on to the other.

"Cuff them." The troopers stepped forward, their heavy boots clattering against the marble. Charlie let out a pathetic, weeping wail as his hands were violently pulled behind his back. The cold, heavy steel of the handcuffs clicked shut around his wrists with a sharp, final clack that echoed through the empty foyer.

My thighs clench. "Keep talking like that," he warns, voice dropping an octave, "and this stop gets a lot less routine." I push back — just an inch. Enough to graze his thigh with my ass. Then I roll. Slow figure eight. Hip forward, circle back, grinding the loop right against him. Once. Twice. The friction sparks low in my belly. He stiffens. Everywhere. "Hands behind your back," he growls. Cold metal clicks around my wrists. Handcuffs. Tight but not bruising. Yet.

she said, as she opened her bag and pulled out her panties, her client's panties, and a pair of police issue handcuffs. "Naughty mummy." "I thought you'd enjoy seeing my trophies. We'll be able to have hours of fun with these," said Fiona, holding up the handcuffs, "but that's for another time." "Please can I have her panties?" "Well I can see that you're not wearing any so I suppose so."

Too controlled. My heart began to pound. I tried again to lift my hand, desperate now, needing to touch my head, to ground myself, to confirm I was real and awake. Still nothing. My gaze dropped. Metal glinted near my wrist. For a second, my mind refused to process it. I stared, blinking rapidly, hoping the image would dissolve into something else. It didn’t. Handcuffs. Cold, silver cuffs wrapped tightly around my wrist, the chain secured to the metal frame of the bed. My fingers trembled as realization crashed into me.

He brought his hand toward her and stella noticed something. “handcuffs??” she asked ,yes babes . She held the handcuffs in her hand when suddenly michal hugged , putting her hair to one side , he inhaled her scent from her bare neck .”are you ready to have some fun ?” “yes “ she whisper “she could hear the person on the other side of her ear piece laugh , she rolled her eyes and without any warning *click* The sound of handcuffs closing were heard throughout the room ,silence, Michal looked at his right hand which was handcuffed to rid of side table of bed. It was impossible for him to get out of the room now. He looked at Her with angry eyes. She held an earpiece and started talking.” I

I was still catching my breath when he stepped away. The bed shifted under me, the air cooling where his heat had been. I heard the faint creak of the drawer by the nightstand opening. “What are you” “Shh.” The sound of metal against metal made my pulse jump. I turned my head just enough to see it—something dark, gleaming in his hand. Handcuffs. “That’s against the rules,” I said, my voice thin. The club had strict limits—no restraints without prior consent.

I swallowed hard, my curiosity mounting. I moved forward, my fingertips brushing lightly over a collection of restraints mounted neatly on the wall. Soft leather cuffs, velvet-lined blindfolds, and thick, braided ropes. Each item was meticulously arranged—waiting, almost expectantly, for a submissive to test them. My fingers hesitated on a pair of delicate-looking silver handcuffs, trailing over the cold metal. Would they feel as delicate as they looked, or would they bite into my skin, holding me firm, utterly at his mercy?