The vibe inside me is in fact, making it very difficult for me to keep my legs together. My pelvis is shuddering and shaking, my p***y liquefying.
He seizes me by my locked ankles, pulling me straight, squaring me up to the foot of the bed. Looping one end of the rope around an ankle, he tugs at it, to slide it between my feet. Then he stretches out the rope, coiling it around the upright on one side of the four-poster, and then the other side, before stretching it back, tensioning the rope a little, and tying the end to my other ankle.
“You see," he says, conversationally, “I can do this now." And he pulls at the rope. As it pulls, my ankles are firmly and irresistibly prised apart, my legs opened.
He pulls on the rope until my ankles are about a foot apart. He surveys me. “You know,
