Torture Meat Daruma Bondage Sm Forced Oral Play

Honestly, I still get shivers thinking about that night—forced oral has never felt so unguarded and real. He had me kneeling on the rug, that Daruma tie cinching my thighs so tight I couldn’t even fidget, and the rope was already chafing while he just laced his fingers through my hair. The way he held my head steady made my pulse race; I remember looking up mid-breath, waiting for his nod, then taking him in slow, deliberate sips as he set this firm, steady rhythm. My jaw ached hollow after a few minutes, but that dull burn was nothing compared to the quiet thrill of him finally letting go, his grip tightening as I kept going until he tapped my cheek—a soft ceasefire. Crawling off the mat left angry red lines on my skin, souvenirs that had me smiling every time I winced in the shower for a week.