14:06 video
“I've had ENOUGH of you taking the spotlight!” Lizz exclaims as she shoves me onto the couch. “You and Johnny. You and Johnny. I want Johnny! I wanna dance with Johnny!” She pulls me up to standing and places a pink bandanna between my teeth, knotting it snugly in place as she explains that I won't be attending class today. “And then I will be the star...” Lizz daydreams, “amazing things...amazing things...” I'm pushed down onto the sofa once more as Lizz decides which length of rope to use next. I'm jerked to my feet again and spun around. Lizz binds my elbows tightly together as she taunts me and explains why she's doing this. I begin to protest through my gag, and she quickly covers my mouth with her hand. “Shhhh!” Lizz leans her lips close to my ear. “Did I tell you that you could talk? Because I'm pretty sure that I didn't. Didn't I just tell you to be quiet?” Lizz throws me back on the couch, grabs more rope, and lifts my legs onto her lap. She wraps rope around my ankles, cinching them down. “Maybe this will trigger something deep down inside of you, and you'll beg me to tie you up later.” Lizz speculates. She expounds further and begins coming on to me. “I can make you feel so much more pleasure than dancing with Johnny. I'm sure.” I glare back at her. A final piece of rope is added above my knees, and I'm left with my “instructions.” I wiggle and squirm in my bondage, lifting my legs in the air. I flex and point my feet, but the ropes don't budge. I whimper through my gag with my efforts. I claw at the rope encircling my wrists. I strain and stretch. Soon, Lizz returns having determined that I'm much too noisy. The bandanna is untied and crammed into my mouth, and silver tape is wound around my head. “Maybe I don't want Johnny at all. Maybe what I really wanted was AJ...” Lizz grins as she caresses my body. “Why don't you lay down on that couch.” Lizz suggests. “You're not going to follow directions?” she questions and swats my ass with a crack of the rope. “Lay down. On your stomach.” I grunt and blubber as my wrists are linked to my ankles, pulling me into a hogtie. Lizz walks her fingers up my body, and torments me for a few more moments before leaving me once again to attend dance class. Keywords: dancer damsel, dasmel in distress, DID, bondage, leotard, tights, stirrup tights, thong, cleave gag, tape gag, mouth stuffing, struggling, rope, barefoot
12:21 video
Oh dear! It seems I've upset Ms Whitney Morgan by being a better dancer than her little sister, and she's decided to take matters into her own hands. I'm XXXX into the room, walking on my knees, my maroon legwarmers little protection from the hard wood floor. The intense grinding on my bones too much to bare, I manage to get my barefeet beneath me, duck walking on the balls of my feet. Whitney hooks an arm under my back and around one bound leg and hoists me onto the couch with a grunt. I wriggle and roll around as Whitney explains why I find myself in this situation. I grunt and whine through my mouth stuffing and vetwrap gag. Whitney continues to taunt me and rant, running her hands over my lithe body. Fed up with my muffled interjections to her tirading, she leaves me to struggle. I wiggle my toes and writhe around, squealing into my gag. With electrical tape encircling my legs and arms, I lift and flex, pushing my ass into the air. This only serves to cause my leotard to climb further up my rump. My mobility modified, I eventually manage to sit up. I press into the couch arching my back. Having worked my butt the to edge, I tentatively slide a knee down to the floor. My chest against the couch and my backside on display, struggle and squirm. I claw at the leg lashing. Nothing I try seems to bring release. Ms Whitney Morgan returns displeased with my attempts at freeing myself. Determined to keep me captive until the completion of the audition, she winds more electrical tape around my legs, pressing them firmly together. Additional tape is also added around my head over the vetwrap. Pleased with my predicament, she exits. I shift my bound legs back and forth, little other movement left to me. I kick my feet and wiggle my toes. I shimmy my body side to side as I press up on my hands and the balls of my feet. Tucking my legs beneath me, I am XXXX into a kneeling position. I bend and straighten my elbows, lifting my arms into the air, but nothing seems to help. I half maneuver half slip back onto the hardwood onto my belly; my nipples displeased with the surface and catching on every minute crack as I slide around. Keywords: electrical tape, bondage, damsel in distress, vetwrap gag, leotard, legwarmers, barefoot, bare legs, barefeet
8:58 video
I tip toe into the room led by Claire de Lune, my knees and elbows bound tightly with jute. “So, I think we've had enough of that mouth...” Claire tells me. She pulls a large red ballgag into my mouth and straps it into place. I squeak and whimper past the gag. “Oh man. Still with all the noise!” Taking a moment, she pulls at my leotard and runs her hands down my tights as she mocks me. Claire briskly turns me around. “Yeah, why don't we just show everybody your ass. That's well composed.” She gives my exposed buttocks a few smacks. “So cute! Oh my god! Everybody just loves the 'darling little dancer'.” she teases. Claire helps me onto my knees, and then maneuvers me to lay on the rug. She picks up a bundle of rope and begins binding my ankles. I wiggle and squirm, but my struggles do nothing more than wave my ass around enticingly. “Now you can just wiggle until your heart's content.” she states as she finishes tying off my ankle rope. A few parting smacks, and she leaves me to struggle on the floor. I roll around on the carpet, straining and stretching against my bonds. I lift my legs in the air twisting and turning, trying anything to loosen my restraints. It isn't long before Claire returns with even more rope! “Okay, I think I've had enough of you wiggling around.” she notifies me before bending down and flipping me over. She drags me closer by my knees, and unties the cinch there. A simple larks head attaches to my ankles while the remaining length is looped between my wrists. A few passes back and forth leaves me hogtied. She runs her hands over my body one last time before departing once again. I whimper and cry through my gag. I flip over onto my arms, thrusting my hips high into the air. I arch up, rocking on my stomach. I reach and pull and finger at the few fibers I find, but my attempts are futile.
11:01 video
It's time to warm up and stretch! I'm listening to some music through my earbuds and bouncing around. I go through a variety of stretches, arching, bending, rolling, and reaching through my postures. I transition to the floor for some butterfly stretching. The soles of my feet pressed firmly together, I wiggle my toes as I lean forward and rock gently. Standing, I begin a releve sequence. Knowing that balance and ankle strength are areas in which I am attempting to increase ability, I focus intently on the exercise. Moving through turned out and parallel second and first positions and finishing with several lifts, I do not hear or notice the man entering through the doors behind me. As I gently press back down from my held balance, he violently grabs me, a large hand covering my mouth and arm encircling my chest! I kick and flail aggressively, my legs swinging in the air. I reach up with both hands, clutching at the man's forearm, attempting to rip his hand off of my face. He drags me over towards the coffee table and chair. I manage to get my feet on the tabletop, but can't gain any traction. My feet slip and slide on the slick surface. We fall back and down into the chair, but I can already feel by body getting heavy. I thrash, but eventually, everything goes dark. I awake to find myself bound, rather uncomfortably, across the coffee table. My toes turned under. My wrists secured to my ankles beneath the table. A panel gag muffling my grunts and protestations. I wriggle around, my movements rather minuscule due to my precarious position. I squeal and moan into my gag, lifting my head and looking around. My captor returns to relax and lounges in the leather chair, resting his boots in my lap. I groan and pull against my bonds. He inspects his work, and my body, fingers digging into my thighs. Straddling me, he casually reaches out, and places a full water cup on my stomach. I immediately become remarkably still and quiet, my attention entirely on balancing the container of liquid. Witnessing my discipline and focus, my assailant softly tickles my hips, fingertips working delicately. I squeal and shriek, unable to maintain my composure for very long. The cup slowly tips forward, and water dumps forth washing over my face. I cough and XXXX and gag, trying to catch my breath and clear the water from my nostrils and eyes. My aggressor returns to further torment and humiliate me, pulling down my leotard, exposing and groping my pert breasts. Finally, he leaves me. Crying and whimpering. Keywords: damsel in distress, dancer damsel, DID, legwarmers, barefoot, leotard, panel gag, bare legs
12:12 video
It's a quiet evening, and I've decided to get in a little stretching before calling it a day. Sporting a pair of ballet pink transition tights and a teal leotard, I flow through a variety of positions: downward dog, plank, press, up facing dog. I vary the up dog by flexing my knee and bringing up a pointed toe, first on the right, then the left. Pressing back, I spread my knees wide and reach forward all the way through my fingers. I wiggle my ass left and right warming up my hips and attempting to release some of the tension in my lower back. Flowing into a frog stretch, I make constant tiny adjustments. Moving into and between a few cat-cow stretches, I sit back on my heels, rolling my shoulders. I proceed with a few shoulder stretches. These flow into a neck and body roll sequence. Hopping forward and leaning back, I press into one final shoulder and chest opening stretch. Next up are some forward bends. I reach and hook my hands behind the balls of my feet. As I lay there, my face in my knees, focused on bending from the hip and reaching through my chest, a man comes in and grabs me, pressing me flat onto the carpet. He pins me down and raises my arms high behind me. Having no trouble holding me in place, he takes his time binding my wrists. Once secured, he torments me, pinching a nipple and grabbing a handful of hair. I whine and protest, struggling with the small amount of movement available to me. Lengths of rope are added to my elbows and ankles. Throughout the process of binding me, my assailant lifts and flips me casually like a sack of sugar, maneuvering me into the positions he desires. I claw at the knot on my wrist restraint. Soon, I am roughly sat up, and the banana I was wearing as a headband is XXXX between my teeth. The man gropes my breasts briefly before tossing me down by my neck. I try to roll away, but can't get very far. As I lay with my face against the carpet, a foot presses down firmly on my back. I squeal and protest as the man further torments me. A last piece of rope is added, securing me in a hogtie, and I am shoved onto my back. As I gaze up into his cold, green eyes as a foot grinds into my throat. Finally, he leaves me to roll about as I please. A stroke of luck! My hogtie rope pulls free! But alas! The man returns before I can release the rest of the ropes.
12:05 video
As a dancer and bondage bunny, I am constantly working to maintain and increase my flexibility. What better way to develop that than with bondage flexibility training sessions! For this session, I find myself stretched and spread on a wooden workbench. Rope encircling my ankles pulls my legs back and apart, leaving me uncomfortable and exposed. The cuffs securing my wrists hold me down and forward. My maneuverability significantly impaired, I swing my long legs side to side from the hips. I flex and point my feet, wiggling my toes, attempting to gain even the slightest relief at the tiniest of adjustments. Moans and gasps pour from my lips as I endure my affair. Writhing in my restraints, I pendulum my legs pursuing a pause in the relentless wrenching of my groin. I lay back, closing my eyes, bringing my focus inward. My lips pursed as I audibly exhale. My chest heaves with the breaths and my effort. After a time, Ben enters and fills my mouth with a bright red ballgag. My predicament continues and the squirming increases in frequency until I am constantly wriggling some small part of me. Keywords: leotard, bare legs, wrinkled soles, barefoot, consensual
11:59 video
Partially bound in my dance practice gear, GiGi leads me into a living room and XXXX me to kneel on the floor. Apparently, I auditioned for and was awarded a solo in the upcoming competition over her daughter. Needless to say, this pisses her off, and she is prepared to do whatever it takes to assure her daughter dances my role in the competition today. Apparently, I am not the first team member to suffer at GiGi's hands. "Nobody auditions against her. They all know better. And now, you're learning the lesson." GiGi states as she holds my face in place. "Do you understand?" "This is how we learn the lesson?" I ask. "Open your God damn mouth!" GiGi demands as she shoves a pink, knotted bandana into my mouth. Calling me a big mouthed brat and accusing me of showing my breasts to the coach to win the part, she pinches a nipple roughly. GiGi continues to belittle me as she straddles my legs and quickly binds my knees. I beg her through my cleave gag to let me go. She merely mocks me in response. "You're lucky I didn't break your fucking leg. That's what I did to the last girl. You got off easy." She reveals as she ties off the ends of her rope. Moving down my legs, she threatens to snap my toes and break my feet, but instead decides to remind me of the troupe's morality agreement. Any member discovered to be participating in lewd activities is immediately dismissed. GiGi's plan is to make a record of my current predicament and share it not only with the team coach, but also on my social media. She leaves me to ponder my situation and goes to retrieve her camera. I writhe around, lifting my tights covered legs into the air and wiggling my toes. Soon, GiGi returns with her equipment, taking video and stills. Even notifying me that she can post directly from her camera! Having acquired her blackmail materials, GiGi adds an additional piece of rope to my bonds, pulling my knees up towards my chest, folding me in half. Satisfied with her work, she pushes me over onto my side and leaves me to struggle and moan on the carpet.
12:36 video
I've auditioned for a guest part with a dance company in North Carolina, and while I performed quite exceptionally, Mr. Andrews informs me that another candidate did just a touch better. I'm obviously disappointed given all the extra work I've put into preparing for the audition. Knowing this, Mr. Andrews informs me that he might have some extra credit I could complete to put me over the top. I practically leap at him accepting the opportunity to clinch the spot. He leaves briefly to retrieve some equipment. I chatter to myself a bit while I wait for his return. Mr. Andrews returns with a bandana, silver tape, and rope. He stands me up and faces me away from him. Each time I attempt to face him, he repositions me. “Don't be difficult.” he states. “I'm not being difficult!” I exclaim. With that, Mr. Andrews unfurls a length of rope and binds my elbows behind me. I continue to question him and move around, and he nonchalantly maneuvers me where he pleases. Lifting my arms, I can do nothing but bend over, sticking out my ass. “Hm..nice.” I glare over my shoulder with a furrowed brow. Once my arms are secured, Mr. Andrews shoves me to my knees and fills my mouth with a large, blue bandana. I protest and whine, but my words are muffled and mostly unintelligible. The silver tape is then wrapped around my head insuring my inability to push the cloth from my mouth. Finally, Mr. Andrews lifts me into his lap, where he is better able to grope me. “You know, I think you are going to win after all.” he informs me. I wiggle and strain as he continues to tie my body. I end up hogtied on the carpet and left to struggle and moan on my own. I writhe and roll around utilizing all of my strength and flexibility to try and loosen my restraints. I claw at my bonds and kick my feet. After some time, Mr. Andrews returns to torment me. Apparently, he's displeased with my amount of movement as he tightens my hogtie rope. His hands run over my body lingering on my ass and legs. He leaves me once more, but not before implying what some of the other extra credit tasks might be… I pull against the ropes in a final attempt to free myself to no avail. Mr. Andrews returns, picks me up, and carries me away to complete my company audition.