Ropebondage - Tumblr Posts
This isn't what I thought you meant by LARPing...
Model automatic1111 SD1.6, brutalmix_v10 AI generated then manipulations, enhancements and touch ups in Affinity Photo 2. This model features loras and embeddings created by "gaydiffusion," and "Nerfgun3" on civitai.com.
@blackleatherbikerjacket
Espero cumplir con tu solicitud en la publicación anterior. 🤠
Un poco de misterio. 🤓🤠
Sólo un previo 😉
Hace tiempo alguien me solicitó ésto.
Espero sea de tu agrado amigo.
Es divertido jugar con mis botas. 😉
🤠
Imagina que caminas a toda velocidad por las calles de la ciudad, porque vas con retardo para el trabajo o una cita muy importante (no estoy describiendo mi desastrosa vida), cuando decides tomar un atajo por otra calle para ahorrar tiempo, entonces de pronto de reojo percibes algo extraño lo cuál te detiene y regresas unos pasos para corroborarlo.
En un aparador de algún negocio de algo cómo una mueblería vieja ves ésto.
Y la pregunta del millón:
En la siguiente publicación (sólo me permiten poner una encuesta) y de acuerdo con los resultados que arroje ésta primer encuesta. 😉
This can be me if you even care…
ROPES
The horrible day...actually the whole fucking week, was finally over. Every frustration, every disappointment, every unfulfilled expectation had been shut up behind a wall in my mind for so long that I could no longer access good emotions – hell, any emotion from behind it. Even so, behind that wall I feel so exposed, so vulnerable that I wish to hide behind anything, but all there is is this barren wasteland as far as my thoughts can see.
So, here I am, submitting to his intervention much sooner than I had ever imagined. Anxiety weaves its tendrils through the recesses of my mind even as I seek solace in his art. He hears my needs and moves wordlessly to work, pulling out the most extreme implements from his closet. He has me stand and deftly removes my clothing, leaving only lacy panties, yet I feel less exposed than when clothed, still shielded by my impregnable mental wall.
He has me sit on the floor and begins weaving the thick rope, binding one leg bent back on itself. It is not the soft, fluffy type that is used to introduce novices to shibari. No, it is rough, spiky sisal, and the loose strands bite into my skin as he pulls it tight. The pain distracts me but a moment, but as the rope winds around my chest in intricate knots, securing my opposite arm behind my back, I feel less exposed, wrapped in an intimate hug of inanimate security. Yet, the wall remains intact, resistant to the surges of pain assaulting my skin.
He loops several longer strands of rope through precise points in the weave of rope. Suddenly, with a strong and rapid hoist, I am airborne. The expertise of his craft is evident as there is no particular point in the configuration that supports too much weight. I am floating, flying, free of the earth, free of the doldrums that had secured me to the depressing miasma that clung to the ground like a suffocating fog. I relax for the first time in days. Yet my desires and my feelings remain trapped behind the wall. Until his next move.
Suspended above the floor, his every action gently sways the ropes. First fingers glaze across my skin which erupts in tingles of anticipation. The first cracks in the wall appear. Next, the cool, smooth straps of a flogger are dragged in place of the fingers, followed by quick sharp blows. My lungs ache from the sudden expulsion of air caused by the surprise. I start protests, but they are suffocated by a ball gag inserted in my mouth. A mask is slipped over my eyes, preventing me from reacting to the following actions before they can be experienced.
I feel the flogger replaced by...a glass comb? What feels like large teeth lined in a row are pushed against my skin. My whole body tenses as a current is passed through them. It is not intense, but the sudden sensation evokes a fear reaction that I cannot control. The instrument is dragged across my flesh and I can only compare it to what others have described when getting a tattoo – a sting that is at once painful yet satisfying. It is relocated on different parts of my exposed skin and wondrously, I feel cracks appearing in that mental wall. Seeping through those cracks comes a sensation that I hadn't experienced in a week – desire.
The pain of the ropes, the sting of the flogger, and the shock of the instrument are transforming in my mind, and the wall becomes a chrysalis from which the sexual me emerges. I feel my panties strain to absorb the rush of my juices flowing now from my pussy. My insides clench around nothing as the intensity of the instrument is increased and my clit begins to throb, aching to be touched, to be licked.
I am pivoted in my suspension 180 degrees and I feel fingers pulling my thong to the side. Then those fingers are pushed inside me, first one, then another, and my pussy is relieved to have something to squeeze, but my clit is still protesting being ignored by tingling even more. He must have surmised this, because suddenly a vibe is pressed against it, sending surges of pleasure through me that cause me to shudder. I don't know how long that lasts, lost in the focus of my inhibited senses.
Before I can experience release from the growing tension that the pleasure is causing, the vibe is removed. So are the fingers. I moan into the gag in protest of a different nature, my drool pooling around it and dripping to the floor. My body begins to sway slowly back and forth. The feeling of being on a swing in my youth is abruptly displaced by my pussy being forcefully filled. I can tell it is not one of his toys. No, it is unmistakably his cock. His hands are on my leg and hips and he is rocking me back and forth on this fulcrum and my pussy greets this invasion with an even greater flood of my juices.
All the loss of the week, buried behind that wall dissipates as the wall crumbles and I am flooded with ecstasy. I cum again and again, losing count in an euphoria of sensations. Just as abruptly, I am empty again. In jerky small motions, I am lowered to the floor. The gag and mask are removed, yet even if my eyes were opened, I would see nothing but a rainbow of colors and sensations as my mind is overwhelmed.
Tender hands undo the configuration of ropes, but now I am held in strong arms instead as they coddle me. I relax in his embrace, not wanting to lose the high that envelopes my cum-soaked mind.
My only thought is planning my next visit.
im going to a shibari workshop later this month, and let me tell you—once I learn to how to tie a pretty little sub up, it’s over for all of you!!!
🖤🤭 pretty kitty 😽✨
„Another place. All alone.”
One bad move and your life will be in danger. Ashley got too much of it. It's too late to be scared. She has to escape from this situation...
And Sorry I made her hair too dark. She has lighter color.
I'm completely exposed for everyone to see. Unable to do anything about it. I can see them looking at me. They try to hide their stare, but I can feel their eyes looking at every inch of my body. I am yours to look at. I love it!
Untitled
Model -Larissa Dali
I just love the way it looks with the rope on and off. 🖤🥀
Bound for trouble
Big thanks to @cybertied for the AI tips
Just an innocent campus prank on the handsome security guard?
Or is there something more in store for him...
Corporate Training Session
I'd love to be a shibari practice doll. Being perfectly still for my Dom·me, moving only to take the position they want or to hold a rope to help them.
They'd tell me that I'm such a good helpful toy, that I look so much better like this.
They'd take a break between each tableau, gagging me so they can call a friend or watch a tv show. They'd masturbate to the view of my really average body highlighted by the rope art, making me watch and listen, but unable to even beg to participate...
Of course, I'd get some rewards for being a good slut. All related to my oral fixation. Starting with just some spit in my mouth. "What? We're just getting started... I have a lot to practice today." The rewards getting better and better, allowing me to kiss, suck or lick different parts of their bodies, legs, nipples, mouth, tongue, fingers with the taste of their masturbation.
After many hours, they'd end up using my mouth to come, then put back the gag.
"Oh, you've been so good to me today. Such a good fucktoy. You've earn the right to come! Yeah, you can either touch yourself, or join me in bed..."
They'd let me there on the floor, in the dark, still unable to do anything, my brain long gone in a horny fog...
I'll tie you up as a pretty display piece at my next show. All sexy and roped up, tied upside down with your legs spread open and a bottle of grey goose vodka shoved up your ass.
Hey kids, did you know you can absorb alcohol through the lining of your intestines better than if you drank it normally? Look it up, it's true!
It'll be minutes before you'd be too drunk to know what's happening, your pretty drunk pussy fully on display and ready to be abused by the crowd. You'll be tipsy and rosy cheeked while hands start grabbing and exploring, squeezing and smacking.
You'll be a toy. A sexy little interactive decoration while the room rumbles with the music. It won't be long before there's a line of hard cocks waiting to ram inside you. You'll be a pit stop for men on the way to the bar.
You'll be my party favor! A cum one, cum all attraction for sleazebags like me to rape for kicks
Party night, baby!