Helpless & Immobile

Lew Reubens knows rope. He wraps it tight around Hollie Stevens until she can’t move an inch. Blonde hair sticks to her face as the knots bite in. A single crotch rope sinks between her lips, every twitch pulling it deeper. The rest of her sits locked—knees spread, wrists cinched behind her back, chest thrust forward like an offering. Once she’s helpless he hands her a cock on a stick. She grips it with both fists because that’s the only part of her body he left free. He watches, counts strokes, demands she drive it in harder until her thighs shake. Sweat drips down her stomach, runs over the rope, and soaks the floor. When she slows he grabs the spray bottle, drenches her skin, laughs at the way she shivers and bucks. Tickling comes next—fingers dancing under her arms and across her ribs while the dildo stays buried. She can’t twist away, can only yelp and thrash against the ropes. He keeps her on edge until the involuntary spasms push the toy just right, and she breaks. The orgasm hits raw, hips jerking, voice cracking, every muscle trying to curl inward and finding nowhere to go. Lew leaves her panting, slick, still tied, the stick now resting against her thigh, proof that even when she’s locked down she can still be made to fuck herself dry.