Alba Zevons – Strictly Bound Orgasms With Hard Cock Intruder
Alba steps straight from the shower, a soft white towel wrapped snugly around her still-damp body. She pads barefoot along the hallway, the cool air raising faint goosebumps across her skin, when a masked figure appears behind her. Strong hands close around her upper arms and a gloved palm seals over her mouth. Her eyes fly wide. The towel slips from her body and pools on the floor, leaving her completely naked as she is guided into another room.
She is soon arranged on top of a sturdy wooden table. Thick rope binds her wrists tightly together and draws them high above her head, the coarse fibers biting into the soft skin of her wrists and forearms. A second length of rope circles her chest in a precise harness, cinching firmly beneath and above her perky breasts so that the full, rounded flesh is lifted and compressed, the rope leaving neat reddened grooves against her pale skin. Each of her legs is folded into a frog-tie position—thighs pulled back toward her body, ankles bound tightly to the corresponding thighs—then the entire arrangement is secured outward to the edges of the table, spreading her wide. A single tight crotch rope runs from the front of the chest harness, sliding between her labia and pressing firmly against her clit before disappearing between her cheeks and locking to the rope at her lower back. Clover nipple clamps grip each stiff nipple; a connecting cord pulls them outward and slightly downward, the weighted tension making her breasts sway with every small movement. A large, bright-red ball gag stretches her lips, the thick rubber sphere filling her mouth so that strings of saliva already begin to spill from the corners and drip onto her collarbones and the upper slopes of her breasts. She wriggles and twists against the restrictive ropes, the crotch rope shifting with every motion and sending sharp sparks of sensation through her sensitive folds.
The masked intruder returns and stands over her, voice low as he taunts and teases. He frees his cock and strokes it slowly in full view of her wide eyes, knowing how desperately she wants to reach for him, knowing how the ropes—especially the relentless pressure of the crotch rope—have already made her pussy slick and hypersensitive. He takes his time, letting her watch every motion of his hand.
Later she is moved to the bedroom. A long wooden spreader bar holds her legs high above her head, ankles bound tightly to each end; her wrists are also secured to the same bar, locking her in a fully exposed, bent-double position that offers him an unobstructed view of her open, glistening pussy. The chest harness and crotch rope remain in place, the clamps still tugging at her swollen nipples. She pulls and writhes harder now, frustration mounting as the ropes dig deeper into her skin and the crotch rope grinds against her clit with every futile struggle.
He returns to intensify the teasing. Fingers tug at the clover clamps, making her breasts bounce and her nipples burn with bright sensation. Then the wand appears. He trails it slowly over her stomach, her inner thighs, the underside of her breasts, before settling the humming head directly against her pussy. He rubs it up and down her soaked folds, pressing firmly against the crotch rope so the vibration travels through the tight cord. All the while he strokes his cock again, right in front of her face. She watches the thick shaft pulse and glisten as orgasm after orgasm rolls through her body, her hips jerking against the ropes, fresh wetness soaking the crotch rope and dripping onto the sheets beneath her.
She is next taken to the staircase. Her arms are drawn high above her head and bound to the banister, the chest harness and crotch rope still locked in place. She twists and shifts restlessly, muffled sounds of pleading escaping around the ball gag. He runs his hands over her body—tracing the rope marks on her breasts, sliding fingers along the wet crotch rope, pinching and rolling her clamped nipples—before returning the wand to her pussy once more. He strokes himself harder as she watches his cock thicken and darken, her own body convulsing through another series of intense climaxes, the ropes holding her open and helpless while she soaks them further.
For his final game he moves her into the shower. The ball gag, chest harness, and crotch rope remain; frog-ties now bind her legs once again, thighs folded and ankles secured so she cannot close them. He turns on the shower head and directs the strong, pulsing stream across her body, first cascading over her shoulders and down the valley between her breasts, then lower. The water pressure builds against her already oversensitive pussy, the jet teasing and then flooding the crotch rope until it is saturated. When the spray reaches her face she squirms hard, water mixing with the saliva that continues to drip from the gag. Frustration tightens every muscle; she aches to come again, yet he keeps the water moving, soaking her thoroughly, prolonging the exquisite torment while he watches every reaction with clear enjoyment.
