One of the things I love about Sarah is her confidence. Winning is the only outcome. So when I asked her if she’d ever tried any self-bondage before, she said that not only did she do it all the time, but she’s never gotten herself stuck. After insinuating that her previous sessions might not have been very challenging, she indignantly asked if she needed to prove it. Taking the bait, I suggested a scene that, on paper, seemed simple enough: one hand cuffed above her and the other to a weight. All she had to do was use the key to unlock her cuffs and escape, while wearing a hood, of course.
Once secured, Sarah knew right away she’d made a mistake. Using a key without sight is challenging enough, but with a 15-pound weight on your wrist, all dexterity is lost. By her third attempt, her arm was only growing weaker as was her chances of escape.
With Camila, the mere suggestion of bondage earns an immediate “Yes!” with no questions asked until she’s already helpless. Once the last strap was bolted down, pinning her securely to the floor, her confusion began to show. Realizing she could barely move, let alone escape, Camila seemed to answer her own unspoken question. Only then did I reveal the magicwand, mounting it between her legs. As it pressed firm against her pussy, her eyes widened as anticipation and dread mingled. Without warning the switch clicked on, and her world blurred. Camila’s first orgasm hit within moments, her body writhing against the restraints as she fought to escape the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing through her. Defeated, she couldn’t think of anywhere else she'd rather be.
When Lucy arrived at my door, she was skeptical, worried that the bondage wouldn’t be real. Confident in her ability to escape anything but the strictest restraints, she was hoping for a true challenge. Lucky for her, I had just the thing to put her doubts to rest.
Before locking her into the wooden stocks, I secured custom-printed ball cuffs to her hands and fastened a matching collar around her neck. Once locked in place, there wasn’t a bit of wiggle room, just a snug and inescapable fit. With her stocks chained to the ceiling and her legs spread apart, her heels continued to slip as she struggled to keep them together. But I wasn’t done with her yet. Holding a heavy concrete ball in my hands, I watched her eyes widen as I tied it to a crotch rope. If she was going to escape, now was the time.
On a whim, Emily reached out to say she’d be passing by on her way home from leave. It had been far too long since she last indulged in restraint, and she was eager to change that. Always happy to help a friend in need, I welcomed the opportunity.
Minutes after stepping through the door, she found herself securely bound to a pole, her hands rendered useless by mittens—no chance of dislodging her gag. With the wand positioned just right and set to high, waves of bliss surged through her. Emily relished every moment, steadily building toward her first climax. Even after learning she’d be there for hours, she barely wavered. The first of many orgasms crashed over her, and she couldn’t have been more content.
Brat was being, well, herself. Initially I was going to stuff her in the cage with some cuffs and a gag but somehow knew that wouldn’t stop her. Mummification would do the trick, but felt a little tit for tat was in order. So she’s told to strip down to make it easier for the microfoam to stick to her. Careful to overlap each layer, she knew she was in trouble once it reached her stomach. The microfoam allows just enough stretch to tire her muscles while easily holding her tight. Once her mouth is taped shut, she’s left to continue being a brat. Just much quieter and out of the way. Since she loves to escape, I figure it’s only fair she’s given at least a few hours to figure a way out.
