Art of Bondage

Valerie's eyes lock on the screen. The model's body strains against metal and rope, a ball gag stretching her mouth wide. The Hitachi presses hard between her legs, every vibration pulling desperate sounds past the gag. Valerie's pulse kicks up. She calls for Josie. Says she's ordered some bondage gear and wants to try it. Josie steps in, takes one look at what Valerie's watching, and grabs the box from the corner. First, Josie wraps the steel collar around Valerie's throat. The rigid arms snap into place, locking her wrists behind her neck in one clean motion. Valerie's shoulders pull back. Her chest lifts. Josie doesn't give her time to settle. She coils rope around Valerie's ankles, cinches her calves tight to her thighs, forces her into a folded kneel. The ball gag comes next—thick, black, forced between Valerie's teeth until the strap clicks at the base of her skull. Josie switches on the Hitachi, presses the head flush against Valerie's clit, and holds it there. No teasing. Just steady pressure and the low, wet hum filling the room. Valerie jerks, moans around the gag, thighs trembling. Josie keeps the vibrator locked in place until Valerie's whole body locks up and she comes hard, gagged cries spilling out in broken bursts. When the shaking fades, they switch. Valerie collars Josie the same way, ropes her ankles and calves the same way, forces the ball gag between Josie's teeth the same way. She works the Hitachi the same way—hard, direct, relentless—until Josie's muffled orgasm rips through her. But when Josie's body stops twitching, Valerie stands. She doesn't untie her. She doesn't touch the gag. She just walks out and leaves Josie kneeling, arms trapped behind her neck, legs locked, vibrator still humming on the floor beside her. Josie strains against the steel. The ropes bite. She can't reach the switch. All she can do is wait and listen to the door close behind Valerie.