Plaster Bondage Novels & Stories

And plugs, big ones that would stretch my ass until I whimpered. He listed his kinks and it was heavy bondage, spanking till you bruise, verbal humiliation, full power exchange where I handed over everything. My cock hardened full as I read, straining against the towel. I pictured myself there, in his world, tied spread to a bed, his hand coming down hard on my ass, each smack echoing loudly.

“These let both partners feel everything more intensely.” Jason’s hand brushed Aria’s lower back. “Interesting.” She swallowed. Then came the bondage section. Cuffs in leather and metal, soft ropes, blindfolds, collars, spreader bars. “These are for when you want to play with power,” the woman explained. “Control. Trust.” Aria’s eyes landed on a set of black leather cuffs with padding inside and small silver buckles. They looked… intense, but not terrifying. “You like those?” Jason asked quietly.

The textured surface of the dildo made sure that she'd still feel the consequences of every attempt at movement, though. It was bondage with no ropes, cuffs or chains. Just these two dildos, held in place by unyielding metal, were enough to completely immobilize her. She was on all fours with no way back or forth, her knees already hurting from the hard wooden box she was kneeling on. Because of course Mistress wouldn't be satisfied with just nailing her in place, spit-roasted. A punishment was supposed to be as grueling as possible, and this unassuming box was the final nail in Nadine's coffin of cramped discomfort.

“You made it.” “I almost didn’t.” She gave a crooked smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I wasn’t sure what you meant in your message. Seriously Ropes?” Adrian tilted his head, a faint smile curling at his mouth. “Shibari. It is a Japanese bondage rope. But not the kind you’re thinking.” He gestured toward the coils of rope, then to the lights positioned around the room. “I want to explore shape and form and lines on the human body.”

He was creating a harness that would distribute weight evenly if someone was suspended, but that also created incredible pressure points and sensation when the person was standing. "The key to good bondage," he explained as he worked, "is that every knot serves multiple purposes. It's both beautiful and functional. It creates both restriction and sensation." He added rope around my hips in a way that created a crotch rope again, but this time integrated with the larger harness so that the pressure increased when I moved. "If you move forward, the rope increases pressure on your clit," he explained. "If you move backward, it creates tension in a different way. The rope becomes a way to guide

- Light public exposure (visible marks, thin collar under clothes, discreet orders in public). - Prolonged bondage (more than 2 hours). - Extreme edging (hours without coming). - Anal penetration on him (strap-on, fingers, plugs). - Chastity play (short-term, up to 48 hours). Jaston read it aloud, his breathing already heavier. “Fantasies now,” she said, turning the page. “No filter. Things we want to try, even if they sound crazy.” He thought for a moment. “I want you to use me as furniture. Like… a coffee table. Me on all fours, you resting your feet on my back while you read or drink wine. Or me lying on my back, you using my face as a seat while you watch something.”

I swing the flogger down again, making her scream and clench around the toy. I unlock the spreader bar, release her out of the pillory and lead her over to the bed. I position her on her stomach, tying her arms and legs to the bedposts. Grabbing the ice, I rub it down her back, over her bum cheek and down the inside of her legs, watching as she tries to move while the restraints hold her in place.

“My board’s pushing for stability. My family wants a bride. And you… you’re the perfect lie.” Tears welled up, but she blinked them away—pride refusing to break. “I’m not your puppet.” He leaned in, breath warm against her ear, rain sizzling on his collar. “No. You’ll be my possession.” She slapped him—hard—with the force of every shattered dream she’d carried. The sound cracked through the stairwell like lightning. His jaw ticked as he did not retaliate. Instead, he smiled. A slow, dangerous thing that sent a chill through her veins.

A rustle of movement drew our attention back to the shadow, still lurking in the darkness, massive and intelligent, a predator that had sensed our bond as much as it had sought our lives, and Kenneth’s hands swept over mine again, grounding me, securing me, pulling me into the rhythm of his lethal, precise movements, yet each touch carried weight beyond survival, a subtle intimacy, a magnetic, possessive tenderness that set my nerves alight and reminded me with every pivot, every roll, every ducking motion that we were inseparable, tethered in desire and trust, bound irrevocably by the events of the night, by the first desperate kiss that had begun this chain, by the heat and ferocity that n

She loomed over me, blazer off, shirt unbuttoned, eyes dark with lust, ready to push further. “New lesson: total obedience,” she said, her voice a velvet threat, leading me to a leather couch. She bound my wrists with a silk scarf, securing them to the armrest, then produced a remote-controlled butt plug. “Insert this,” she instructed, handing it to me. I obeyed, sliding it into my ass, the stretch making me gasp, and she took the remote, turning it on, the vibration pulsing deep.