Suspension Bondage: Viva

Marty wraps the ropes tight around Viva’s wrists and pulls her arms over her head. She hangs from the ceiling hook, toes just scraping the floor. Her breath comes fast behind the ball gag, spit already sliding down her chin. He steps back, then forward again, swinging the strap across her bare ass. The smack echoes off the walls. She jerks in the ropes. Another strike lands lower, across the backs of her thighs. Red lines rise quick. He circles her, hitting every inch he can reach. Her body twists, suspended and open. Sweat gathers in the small of her back. Each new blow makes the ropes creak. She grunts into the gag, eyes half-closed, taking it. He pauses only to run his palm over the heat blooming across her skin, then swings again. The rhythm stays steady, hard and mean, until her shoulders shake and the spit drips onto the floor beneath her. 2002. Viva. Ball gag buried deep. Ropes holding every inch of her weight.