Novel & Cerita Plaster Bondage

He is standing now while I am still sitting on the floor. “He told me that the ones he gave were used for something called bondage. Do you want to try?” He is now walking towards the table and I am just watching him. I did not answer. Bondage? What's that? I just heard that word today. When he got the equipment, he came back to me carrying a leather choker with a chain. There is also a red rope that looks easy to break. “What are those? Leather and rope? I can easily break those.” I got up. “But if that's what you want, then, I can't do anything. Is it not?"

Then he pulled back and turned her toward the computer. Tracie's eyes widened at the page displayed there. A banner across the top proclaimed "Finest toys and equipment for the discriminating bondage fans." In a column along the left, in bold letters, was a list that included floggers, spanking benches, paddles, and restraints. The rest of the page was taken up by pictures of various items. "Do these frighten you, Tracie?" For the first time Pete's voice held a note of uncertainty.

He rolled one shoulder. Crack… The joint gave a faint, audible pop… the casual motion of someone easing a touch of stiffness after a long nap, not someone who had just been hurled through ancient trees by a blow powerful enough to shatter the forest. His expression never changed. If anything… He looked… relieved. Then… He spread his immense black wings slightly before giving them a slow, intentional shake. Dust drifted away… Splintered bark slid from the obsidian feathers… Broken twigs and shattered fragments of wood rained silently onto the forest floor.

“To encourage vascular engorgement and tissue plasticity.” The combination was maddening. The full-body bondage, the hypnotic soundscape, the hours of gentle, maddening touch, and now this soft, relentless suction on her sex. She was floating in a sea of sensation with no hope of release, her body wound tight as a spring. He left her like that. For how long, she couldn’t tell. She drifted in a semi-conscious state of desperate arousal, her mind emptied of everything but the need for him to finish what he’d started.

As I sat there, he came over with ropes, and a dildo I think? It just had a weird shape. It was like small balls, no beads, made into one, each bead bigger than the next. “Lie on your belly.” He ordered, coldly. I had to brace myself up. I could do this. It might not be that bad. I did as I was told. The mister moved around the bed, tying my hands and legs to the metal bars around the four poster bed. my wrists and ankles were bounded so tightly and securely, I could barely move.

“But for that, I need to know how far you’re willing to go.” He sat up, keeping his eyes on mine. “There are physical practices,” he explained. “Like bondage—restraint with ropes, cuffs, or tape. There’s sensory play, where we use blindfolds, temperature gels, special candles, feathers, or clamps. There’s impact play—spanks, paddles, whips, floggers, crops. None of it is done carelessly, and never to harm, but to stimulate.” My heart pounded so hard I could hear it in my ears.

The concept of exclusivity must be upheld. Does the submissive consent to the use of dildos, vibrators, butt plugs, and other anal and vaginal toys? Does the submissive consent to sexual foreplay such as masturbation, swallowing semen, vaginal intercourse, anal intercourse, anal and/or vaginal fisting, suspension from the ceiling? The use of ropes, cable ties, duct tape, handcuffs, and other restraints for bondage material? Does the submissive consent to be restrained with hands bound in front, back, ankles bound, elbows bound, binding to fixed items, and more as the Dominant pleases?

Closing my eyes, I took her hands in mine. I knew I shouldn't be doing this, but I had no other choice. I had lost so much already and I wasn't losing Nina this time. I felt the magic come alive in my bones like fire—natural, forbidden, desperate. I hadn't summoned a spell in so long, especially since— I could feel light spread beneath my skin and through hers. “Goddess of the moon, let her wounds be undone, bring back the broken, make her whole as one.” As I said the spell, I stepped back, watching as her wounds began to close one by one, a golden thread stitching her scars as if they had never been there in the first place.

“The whole ‘go into the haunted grid alone and rearrange the wires with your bare hands’ thing. That’s banned.” “Banned?” he echoes. “Wow, harsh legislation councilwoman.” “I’ll write it on a rock and chunk it at your face if you need it formalized,” I tell him. His mouth twitches. “You grabbed my hand,” he says, quieter. “I don’t think it realized… I could use you as an anchor instead of the other way around.” I look down at our fingers, only a few inches apart on the couch cushion. The glyph in my palm gives the faintest glow, answering the one on his chest like a heartbeat.

Humiliation burned hot, but I craved it, moaning vibrations around him. Pulling out, he hauled me up, bending me over the bed. “Spread wide.” I did, ass up. He fetched ropes from a drawer—proper bondage gear—and tied my ankles to the bedposts, immobilizing me. A blindfold followed, plunging me into darkness. Sensory deprivation heightened every touch.