Red's dark fantasies

He told me I belonged in the kitchen. After I disagreed he proceeded to prove himself right…

I mean, some of us just belong on the floor squirming in bondage. It doesn't really matter where...

Oh, don't worry, she can breathe. Just not quite as effortlessly as she used to. I'm sure the hood will come off again once she learns to appreciate fresh air for the privilege it is.

Fetish Friday - Putting Her Through Her Paces

A cosy enough way to wait for your owner to decide how to deal with your bratty behaviour, I suppose. 😆

It's a learning thing. An education is important.

Mmmmm.....follow @kinkycaty you wont be sorry

Oh my, I wonder what she did to deserve this punishment...

As if the site title in the corner wasn't evidence enough, being bound spread-eagle against a brick wall is about as clear an indication of a whipping a girl can receive. I hope she likes pain. 😆

Is that a breathing tube or a feeding tube? I hope it's the latter... she can be kept like this much longer that way.

When a rope hogtie is too much work, it can be useful to have a steel frame ready to go for those troublesome, mouthy brats.

A slight puckering of the lips is about the only tool rubber dolls like this have at their disposal when it comes to seduction and getting what they want.

Having a fixed gag is an interesting way to keep the head fixed in place without any other restraints... Would be a great setup for tickling, I imagine.

Mmmmm

Just the kind of motivation some of us need to keep from stopping or falling from the treadmill. 😅

I held her by the hips, steady, letting her body betray her before I laid a single real touch on her. She tried to keep her breath quiet, but the small trembling motions gave her away, those sharp little twitches that happened every time I moved just an inch closer. I dragged my thumb along her thigh, slow, deliberate, and she jerked like she couldn’t help it, heat pooling between her legs, already leaking for me. I murmured her name against her ear, telling her not to run from it, telling her to take every second of the tension I was building in her. She nodded, desperate, her legs shaking, her body pushing toward my hand even as I held her still. I didn’t rush. I didn’t need to. The control was already mine. She was dripping before I even touched where she wanted it most, trembling so hard I could feel it through my grip, whispering please without saying a word. And I smiled, slow and certain, because a good girl doesn’t melt when you take her. She melts when you make her wait.

This definitely made heat pool between my legs.

This seems like one of those Scooby-Doo moments: whip off the mask, only to find another mask beneath. You'll never suspect who the real doll is!

A fine example of proper rope cinching: wraps alone are never sufficient.

Now she just needs that hair tamed a bit and she could practically be a glamour model.