Rope Bunny Knots Novels & Stories

"I saw that attack. That was–" "Ready with your rope?" Jai asked, ignoring her comment. Beto took the big roll of rope on her shoulder and showed it to him. "Ready". It was a thick vine with small leaves still around it. The diameter of the vine was roughly the size of a five year old's forearm. "Isn't that the dangling roots of Habakiri?" Kasuga asked. Beto nodded. "Yeah. Now how are we going to rope this thing?" The beast grunted, earning a look from them.

However, killing him in one bite still had nothing to do with him. "According to the records, this is the new rope that you bought when you first joined the crew. The structure and material of this kind of rope, even if it was used for half a year, won't be torn easily, not to mention, we've checked that this rope is man—made damage, the center has several loads—bearing knots that were cut and sawed by a knife, you can't see it on the surface, but the core is already empty." "Humph! I don't know, so many people here have touched these machines, why do you suspect me?" Ronin immediately revealed a face that refused to admit it. At this time, the more guilty you are, the more you will find all

The coarse jute rope hissed as he wrapped it around her upper arms, binding her wrists together before weaving the cord across her chest, securing the knots across her sternum. The Takate Kote instantly pulled her shoulders back, forcing her breasts forward and thrusting her spine into a sharp, arched posture. Without breaking his rhythm, Elijah took a second length of rope and began the Futomomo. He looped the rope around her upper thighs, pulling them wide and securing the knots behind her knees, binding her legs so her center was permanently, brutally exposed. It took a few minutes of silent, highly skilled work. The tension of the knots was firm, precise, and expertly tied to avoid cutti

Agreeing with Dana and the hunter from Malaysia. The face is calm and lovely and smiling, dark hair drifting around it elegantly, and under the chin swings a glistening rope of intestines, dripping and swaying as she banks. And drops. At me. I get half the crossbow strap off my shoulder. All those years of training. Half a strap is all I manage. Something slams into me. Not her. Russet, huge, airborne. It takes me clean off the bike, and we hit the ditch together as the air where my head just was rips open with a shriek I feel in my molars.

"Together. Use the figure-eight knot Alex taught you." I look at Alex. He nods, leaning against the desk, watching. I take the rope. My fingers are steady now—I’ve gotten used to the feel of silk against my skin. I wrap it around my ankles, pulling it snug but not cutting off circulation. I tie the knot, testing it. My legs are locked together. "Good," Echo purrs. "Now, the pillow. Place it on the bed." I hop awkwardly over to the massive bed, tossing the velvet pillow into the center.

Which was when I discovered, it was also thrilling. My body was such a strange mix of arousal and fear as I reached for it, offering to show her first how to untie the knot, then how to retie another, a simple bond that wouldn’t slip. I showed her the two loops and how to pull the rope through, demonstrated that once the knot was formed, it wouldn’t move, then handed her the rope and urged her to try a couple of times. Unsurprisingly, she was a quick study. So, a minute later, as she quickly released the knot for the third time, I sat back again and kind of opened my hands.

Once he had it unwound, I judged that the rope was about 20 feet long. "What are you going to do?" I whispered. "Watch and you'll see." For the next 20 minutes, he intricately wrapped the rope around my body. He tightly wound the rope around my breasts, compressing them, and around my waist with multiple knots down my breastbone and stomach that created three small rope circles. The rope strands ran between my legs twice, first on either side of my vagina and then directly between my lower lips and up through my ass crack. My entire body felt like it was being compressed by the rope. I felt pressure on my breasts, pussy, and asshole, and the rope slightly constricted my breathing. I was in n

Looking up, she let out a strange cooing sound and a few moments later a rope dropped from the roof. Looking at the rope, Rosie saw two loops tied close to each other at the end, with knots tied in the main length in what looked like exact measured increments, for ease of gripping it she thought, “One hand in each loop?” she asked, one eyebrow raised. “No,” Dilo smiled, “One loop each.” Scrunching her nose in confusion, Rosie’s mind went to how this setup could possibly work. She knew her father had no lifting contraptions on the roof, yet Dilo had insisted on one loop for each person, her tone thick with smug confidence.

“Hands behind your back.” I lace my fingers together at the base of my spine, watching as he picks up the rope. It’s the same soft leather we used before. He shifts forward, knees bracketing my chest, and reaches for my wrists. The knot he ties is neat and sure. Not cruel. Not punishing. Firm. I test it and it holds, but I know if I put my full strength into it, I can break it. He picks up the folded cloth. “What’s that?” I ask, my voice suddenly tight.

I pulled the soft black jute rope from the bag I kept in my trunk for emergencies that never happened. Her eyes widened when she saw it. “On your knees. Hands behind your back.” She obeyed instantly. I tied her wrists first; tight but safe,a quick release knot hidden. Then her elbows, drawing her shoulders back so her tits thrust forward. She moaned softly when the rope bit in just enough. “Too tight ?” I asked. “No. More.” I added a chest harness which looped around her breasts, framing them and making the rope dig into her soft flesh. Her nipples were diamond hard.