Novel & Cerita Plaster Bondage

he gasped. They dried him off and returned him to the bedroom for what they called “afternoon reinforcement.” This time the rope work was more intricate. Vanessa and Mitchelle worked together , almost too well , wrapping his torso in a beautiful yet restrictive diamond harness that squeezed his chest and pinned his arms behind him. Mirabel added leg bindings, forcing him into a kneeling position on the bed with his thighs spread wide and his ass presented. A thick, vibrating dildo replaced the plug. Mitchelle turned it on high, the relentless buzzing pressing directly against his prostate.

He wrapped a wide band of silk just beneath my breasts, lifting and framing them beautifully, then another around my waist. The ropes continued downward, creating a harness that framed my hips and thighs. He knelt to bind my ankles loosely to discreet rings on the platform, spreading my legs in a stable, open stance. Every touch of his fingers was reverent and precise, like he was composing a living sculpture. By the time he finished, I was beautifully bound — arms raised, body arched and displayed, silk ropes crisscrossing my skin in crimson and gold patterns that accentuated every curve. The ropes pressed lightly against my clit with the slightest shift of my hips, sending sparks of pleasu

Damien said, "Natalia is ours for the night. No limits except her safe word. Let's begin." They surrounded her, and Natalia felt six pairs of hands on her body....groping, squeezing, exploring. Someone's mouth on her breast, someone else's fingers in her pussy, someone spreading her ass cheeks. "On the bondage bed," Damien commanded. The bondage bed had restraints at all four corners plus the center. They laid Natalia on her back and secured her....wrists and ankles spread wide, completely helpless. "Who wants her pussy first?" Damien asked. "I do," Marcus said, positioning himself between her legs. His thirteen-inch cock pushed into her, and Natalia moaned.

Of being his. “That’s not very lady-like,” he whispered against my lips. “And a gentleman is the last thing you deserve tonight.” He worked me into a frenzy, his fingers cruel and kind at the same time, testing my limits until I was begging. And then, he stopped. The silence was agonizing. “Killian, please!” “You want to cum?” “Yes!” I heard him move, heard the rattle of the cuffs. When the leather wrapped around my wrists, pinning my arms above my head, a sob of pure, unadulterated surrender broke from my throat.

Dust fell onto their naked skin like dirty rain. Reza used whatever he could find for improvised bondage — old military ropes, torn strips of clothing, and rusted chains from the corner. He tied Soraya’s wrists tightly behind her back, then bound her full breasts in rough loops until they bulged, flushed deep red, veins standing out under the stretched skin. A thick rope was pulled viciously between her legs, the coarse fibers splitting her soaked pussy lips and grinding hard against her swollen clit. Her ankles were forced wide and secured to metal stakes hammered into the dirt floor, spreading her cunt obscenely open.

Chapter 17: She Is Ours Logan For the next section, there are definitions included with each part to add additional clarification. She said yes to bondage using cuffs, heavy, intricate and light bondage, locks, spreader bars, suspension and whole body restrictions using the material of chains, leather, ropes, scarves and tape. Some of the more intense and advanced things she rated as a combination of hard and soft limits. Like before, she has had no experience with any. "Breath play?" Kingston asked.

He could bind a woman there in seconds, and I had little doubt he had done exactly that. My gaze shifted to the wall beyond the bed, and for a second, I forgot to breathe. Mounted there like an art installation was a St. Andrew’s Cross, matte black with thick leather cuffs at the ends of each arm. The padding was subtle, and it was probably designed to keep someone there for a long time while also remaining comfortable. A bondage horse stood nearby, adjustable and padded with the same luxurious leather. I would have to sit on the bondage horse like I was riding an actual horse, with my wrists and ankles bound.

"Not done yet. Gonna keep you tied and fucked all day." Hours blur— he rebinds me in new positions: on my side, one leg hitched high; doggy with arms pinned behind; even suspended slightly from the headboard for standing fucks. Each time, BDSM amps it: wax drips on my skin (he melts a candle, hot trails on thighs and tits), ice cubes trailed over clamps, vibrator pressed to my clit while he takes my ass. Paddling between rounds, spanking until I'm sobbing, then soothing with his mouth.

I said. "Do you, Adrian Silverblade, accept this bond?" "I do," Adrian said, his voice thick with emotion. "Then by the old magic and the new, I declare you bound. Mates for life. What magic has joined, nothing can separate." The golden light flared bright, then sank into our skin. I felt it settle deep in my chest, warm and permanent. We were married. Bonded. Forever. The hall erupted in confused applause. Some people cheered. Others looked shocked. Many whispered behind their hands.

Need pooled like a wet blanket below my navel and with expert ease, I took off his trousers and slowly pulled him out. I licked the top of his cock and placed a soft kiss on the head in pure worship and adoration, my mouth opened and then I was sucking him. I had some bondage tape in my toy box, that stuff that sticks to itself and doesn’t leave you gummed up with adhesive. He reached for it, dislodging his cock from my mouth, then said, “Hands on my thighs.”