Violet

She claimed it was just an experiment. Rope told a different story. It dug in deep, turned her skin red where it crossed, held her still while she tested every knot with her weight. The bit gag kept her jaw wide, spit sliding down her chin in a slow line. Every breath came out ragged around the leather, every moan turned into a wet, muffled sound that only made the rope pull tighter. Blonde hair stuck to her face. Her arms strained behind her back, elbows forced close, wrists crossed and cinched until escape was a fantasy she’d already given up on. She shifted, hips rolling once, testing again. The rope held. It always would.