Robotic Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413
Being his bondage beauty makes me so proud. We walk through the dark club, hand in hand, as Master and sub. My eyes are cast down, watching our feet move in unison. He’s fully dressed in a suit, and I’m wearing only a nude-colored thong. To anyone looking, I’d appear fully naked, save for my tall heels.
I’m not shy or ashamed; I’m his little work of art, or I will be once we get on stage. The crowd is milling about, drinking, dancing, and talking. I feel eyes clocking us as we move, and then murmurs follow. “He’s here.” “That’s the Dom I was telling you about.” “Oh, look.” Then, the group of people shifts focus when I follow him up to the center of the stage.
Bondage Beauty
Sir drops the thick coil of red rope he carried here with us and kisses my forehead. “Ready, beauty?” I nod and look up at him. Pride reflects in his dark eyes, and I hold out my arms. “Such a good girl.” His voice gave me goosebumps, and the back of his knuckles teased my peaked nipples. On instinct, my tummy hollowed as I inhaled.
I looked over the crowd when Sir picked up the end of the rope and held it against my ribs just under my breasts. I knew what to do, what was expected of me. I’d been his bondage beauty many times before. I started to turn in a slow circle while he worked the rope into position. Soon my boobs would be crushed between his handmade rope harness. My little nude thong dampened with anticipation.
Robotic Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413