Rhonda

Rhonda had never been tied before. She answered an ad, sent photos, and found herself trussed up tight. Her arms pulled behind her back, rope biting into her skin. Breast bondage framed those pale tits perfectly, the rope cutting deep lines across the soft flesh. A ball gag stretched her mouth wide, forcing every breath and moan into raw, wet sounds that filled the room. The camera caught every twitch, every strain, as she tested the knots and realized she wasn’t getting free. He worked her over slow, then faster, fingers finding her ribs and underarms, tickling until her body jerked and shook. The gag turned her laughter into desperate, choking sounds. She drooled around the ball, spit running down her chin, eyes wide and glassy. Every roll of her hips made the ropes bite harder. She came for the camera without a single word spoken. Just grunts, gasps, and the wet slap of flesh against rope.