Cinderella Choke

I pull on the dress like it's a secret I can't keep. Satin clings. Wrists shaking already. Vibrator close. Rope waiting. I loop it over the beam, cinch it tight around my throat, pull until the knot bites. No slack. No second thoughts. The first tug hits. Solid. Heavy. My breath narrows to a thread while my free hand switches the toy on and presses it hard against my clit. The dress rides up my thighs, princess perfect, totally fucked-up. Pressure stays steady. Pulse hammers in my ears. Every throb from the vibrator shoots straight up the rope and back down again, turning each gasp into something dirtier. I ride it, edging closer, eyes half-lidded, black hair tangled across my face. The choke tightens on its own when I come the first time. My knees buckle. The knot holds. Second orgasm slams in right behind, hips jerking, thighs shaking, the rope biting deeper with every twitch. I don't loosen it. I don't want to. Safe play? Sure. I'll preach it after. Right now all I want is the choke, the buzz, and that final rush where the room goes black at the edges and I keep coming anyway.