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“Oh hi..” David says as he approaches me with a couple bundles of rope.

“Hii!” I smile back.

“So then...you ordered some bondage?” he queries.

“I did.” I giggle and bounce as I clasp my hands behind me.

“That's good.” he states as he finishes unfurling the rope. “I'm the delivery guy.”

He begins binding my elbows together with a length of jute. However, as he is about to start cinching the wrap, he decides that my elbows are not nearly close enough.

“Ah...you can do better than that...” he scoffs quietly.

“Are you talking to me or yourself?” I inquire.

“It's not your fault if your elbows aren't really as close together as they could be because that's my job. That falls on me.” he explains.

“It does.” I gleefully agree.

“Ultimately, when the elbow bondage isn't tight enough,” David breaks the fourth wall and engages the viewer, “I've got to take responsibility.”

I laugh exuberantly. David finishes lashing my elbows together, and I take a moment to breathe and settle into the tie as he picks up the next length of rope.

“Now about those wrists and that mouth of yours...” David adds almost as an aside.

Once my wrists are bound, David grabs a ballgag and pops it in my mouth.

“Try and keep it down.” he tells me as he fastens the strap. “You and your bondage reactions.”

I playfully whine and mumble, “You love my bondage reactions.” through the gag filling my mouth.

I continue to shift and sigh as I endure my oppressive arm bondage, waiting for the ropes to shift ever so slightly and provide even minute relief. I groan and wiggle and gaze up at Mr Andrews as he secures a rope around my neck. I sit down on the ottoman as instructed, and maneuver myself so that my leg is available for a frogtie. After both of my legs are bound, David considers his chosen order of tying.

“Do the crotch rope the hard way...” he mutters as he reaches around my waist.

“Now, let's get you splayed out.”

David helps maneuver me down and onto my stomach. I shimmy, squirm forward on the ottoman with a few pushes from David. Drool slowly drips down my chin, dropping to the floor. I point and flex my feet as I process the sensations I'm experiencing. I coo and grunt quietly as I await the next part of the position. A piece is attached to my crotch rope and strung to a point above me, pulling it painfully into my pussy. I breathe and moan rhythmically as I set myself to endure my predicament. My neck rope is stretched taut and secured to the tripod leg directly in front of me. I gaze forward and focus intently. Each thigh is individually drawn away from the other and towards the other steel poles. With little left that I can do as I'm stretched in four directions, I look around and languish.

David returns to check on me, and I request that my next rope be released. My head sinks and hangs heavy, and I manage and muffled, “Thank you.”