Deny Yourself

Allie straps Mura into the straitjacket, cinching each buckle until the blonde can’t move. Every pull tightens the canvas around her breasts and forces her shoulders back. The small girl fights it at first, then the fight melts into slow, hungry grinding. Allie sits back and watches. Her eyes stay on the trembling body, on the way Mura’s thighs rub together, on the sweat already shining on pale skin. Mura’s clit is hard and bare, slick, desperate. She keeps testing the straps, hips jerking forward even though there’s nothing to grind on. Allie’s gaze never softens. She just sits there, making sure the blonde feels every inch of denial, every throb she isn’t allowed to answer.