harness

Continued from here.

Penthouse sat on his bed, smiling down at me. I was hogtied at the foot of it, nude, rope slung through my crotch. Every so often, he pulled on the stray end of rope threaded through his bedpost, tightening the knot against my clit.

He noticed I had gotten a text from a certain Gentleman.

A certain Southern Gentleman.

He smirked.

“You can respond, go ahead,” I murmured, already halfway to subspace. Penthouse picked up the phone and responded with a greeting and an update on the situation.

SG responded right away.

And that’s how Penthouse met the Southern Gentleman.

Kind of.

stefanradev-foto:

“Rope marks ”
Model: Petya Gencheva

Continued from here.

Penthouse had undressed me and was starting to unwind a ton of rope. He started with the harness he had put me in during the mini-munch. I smiled to myself as he worked, still figuring I had the upper hand. After all, I wanted to be tied up.

My grin faded when I felt him pull the rope between my legs from the back and tie a knot in it. My eyes widened when he pulled the other end up through the front of the harness, causing the rope to tighten up against my exposed cunt and the knot to line up with my clit.

It was his turn to smirk when he gave the rope a few test pulls.

“Feel good?” He asked and I blushed, looking away. He reached up and mussed my hair. "Go get on the bed and let me do your legs, then.“

I’ve never been particularly enthusiastic about harnesses.

But, seeing them from this angle may have given me a change of heart.

Often, the best kind of release is long before you’re untied.

Like a Brisket, Part Seven

Penthouse had put The Prodigy into one of these sorts of harnesses and she asserted that she wanted to try to get out of it herself. Unlike mine, which was apparently more for function, The Prodigy’s ropework was really more for aesthetic and could, with some working, but wriggled out of.

I, on the other hand, only got out when someone finally let me out when I had to go to the bathroom. When I returned, The Prodigy was still trying to squirm her way out and Penthouse had shown Craftsmate how to use the rope to make cuffs that cinched tighter when the person inside pulled on them.

A little while later, I wound up inside of them with my arms behind my back as we cheered on The Prodigy as she worked the loops down her arms.

“Now, see, you can make her do this,” Penthouse grabbed the extra rope on the end of my cuffs and pulled my arms up so I bent forward. I kicked back at him playfully. “Or, if you got her on the ground, you could hogtie her pretty easily.”

I guess I don’t have to explain to you all how I wound up a little bit later.

The thing about hogties with that tie is that if you struggle even a little bit, your wrists get tighter. And, so, I was stuck that way, trying to get comfortable on the rug while The Prodigy crossed an hour of being stuck trying to get out of the harness and Penthouse went to go get his riding crop.

“Dear Diary: Heather told me she teaches people "real life.” She said, real life sucks losers dry. You want to fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly. I said, so, you teach people how to spread their wings and fly? She said, yes. I said, you’re beautiful.“ From the film Heathers.

I need more drinks and less lights

And that American Apparel girl in just tights.

There’s something really understatedly elegant about that buckle at her shin, as opposed to the harsh messiness of a knot.

Ivy

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