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“I'm so sick of you!” Lizz exclaims as she pushes me down on the leather couch. “Open your fucking mouth.”

She fills my mouth with a teal ballgag and fastens it behind my head and under my chin. She tosses me around and smacks my ass a couple of times before grabbing more rope to restrain me further.

“You don't have to do this.” I mutter, barely intelligible through the gag.

“I do have to do this.” Lizz states matter of factly.

Rope is wrapped around my legs as Lizz explains why I'm here.

“You think you're so bad ass with your butt flexing, and your dance routines, and your little neon colored outfits.”

I twist and shimmy in my bonds as Lizz binds my knees and ankles. My hot pink legwarmers barely keeping the braiding from biting into my body. She leaves me to go and check on the dance competition.

I whine and cry through my gag and strain against my restraints. Lifting my legs high in the air, I point and flex my feet hoping the motion will loosen the ankle ropes. None of my movements provide any release. Writhing and arching, I slide around on the sofa struggling. Eventually, I make my way to the carpet, and soon Lizz returns.

I feebly back away from her, and she deftly grabs my throat. I'm instructed to lie on my belly, and mockingly praised for following directions well as I comply. Lizz uses a final length of rope to put me in a tight hogtie, my wrists nearly touching my ankles.

“Do you see the tears in my eyes?” She queries.

“No!” I bark through the ballgag.

“That's because there aren't any.” She stabs.

She harasses me for a few more moments, grabbing handfuls of my butt and groping my breasts before leaving me once more. I arch high in my hogtie, rocking on my hips. I roll around on the carpet, eventually winding up on my back. Pumping my pelvis in the air to relieve the pressure on my pinned arms, I sob in my situation.