Rough Escape

Your hands move fast. One loop of rope pins her wrists, the next cinches above the elbows. Dresden tries to laugh it off, still talking, but the black rubber ball stops every word. Leather straps bite into her cheeks, pulling the gag deep until her jaw is stretched wide. A muffled grunt is all that’s left. You push her back against the cold wall, yank the red thong aside, and press the Hitachi head right where her clit is already swelling. Tape wraps tight; the wand doesn’t slip. One click and the low buzz kicks in. She jerks, heels scraping stone. Her eyes flash—half anger, half heat. Another click, higher speed. Her hips buck on instinct, chasing it, fighting it. Sweat glistens on her collarbone. Every time she pushes too close, you shut the toy off and she growls behind the gag like a caged thing. Minutes stretch. The red heels wobble. Her thighs tremble harder with every denial. When she’s dripping down her legs and the words behind the gag sound more like begging than cursing, you switch the vibrator back on and leave it. No escape now. Only the steady pulse and the slow slide toward the edge she isn’t allowed to cross.