Freya the hogtied princess

Freya drops the last of her fight the second that ball gag slides between her teeth. Her wrists are drawn back to her ankles, rope cinched so tight her back bows, every muscle locked in place. The master watches the tension settle through her shoulders, the way her breath stutters around rubber. She’s strong—strong enough to hold herself open to whatever comes next. The foreskin of his cock drags across her cheek before he pushes deeper, testing how far she’ll take it while the ropes keep her folded and helpless. No escape, no words, just the steady creak of cord and the wet sound of her throat working. She stays right there, gagged, bound, waiting for the next move.