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I'm seated casually on the desk awaiting Mr. Andrews. As he enters, I slide onto my belly, leaning on my elbows smiling up at him.

“Hello, hello.” he says as he walks towards me and around the desk.

“Hello.” I chime back.

“What are you doing? What are you doing?” he queries almost absently.

“Attempting to be a distraction.” I grin back.

“I see. I see. Oh look!” he playfully exclaims.

“More distraction.”

“Things to be utilized in said distraction.” Mr Andrews states as he sorts through a few bundles of rope, selecting one, and walking back to the front of the desk.

I hop off the desk and place my arms behind me, assuming we'll be beginning with my elbows. As he starts cinching the wraps down, he chuckles softly to himself.

“Oh dear, the chuckling has started already.” I comment.

“I've got an idea.” he quickly replies flatly.

“An awful idea...”

“Well, we'll see where this goes.” Mr. Andrews remarks. “I guess you'll have to be the judge of that.”

He continues to tie a ladder down my arms; my forearms so tight and flatly together that it's challenging to push the rope between them. I sigh as I start to settle in. After he knots off the ladder rope, I turn to face him. He picks up and unfurls another bundle then leans in close to me, reaching around, and looking over my shoulder as he binds my wrists.

“Maybe...” Mr. Andrews giggles. “I might get this rope through.” I laugh heartily. “That's a tiny little gap there.”

“Just push my flesh out of the way, it will be fine.” I smile back.

He manages to finally get the cinches complete as we exchange a few quips back and forth. Next, and pair of rolled up pantyhose is crammed into my mouth, and microfoam tape is wrapped around my head, securing the nylons in place. Mr. Andrews lifts me up and sets me back on the desk, then maneuvers me back down onto my stomach. He makes quick work of binding my ankles as I coo and sigh. I slide around a little adjusting my body in my bondage slightly.

“Oh look more rope.” Mr. Andrews states coolly.

“More rope!” I muffle squeak through my gag.

Mr. Andrews coils a length of rope from my ankles to my upper elbows pulling me up into a strict hogtie. I moan and sigh heavily as my movement is further restricted. He then takes a moment to run his hands over my body, lingering on my ass and pinching my nipples. I am then left there to endure my bondage.

I arch up, rocking on my hips. I push my ass into the air and grab the heels of my pumps. I slide around on the shiny desk like a fish, trying to move forward, but don't manage to make it anywhere. I carefully flip over onto my back, laying on my arms and thrust my hips high into the air. As I roll back over, I let out a concerned murmur feeling myself precariously close to the edge of the desk. I remove my heels and drop them to the floor with a loud thud. I rest my hands on the small of my back, somewhat chicken winging myself. I discover immediately that this was a mistake as Mr. Andrews reappears to assure I maintain that position, having shown him the possibility. My vocalizations have become nearly rhythmic as I continue to suffer and endure.

“It's time for my lunch break, so, you can just lay here and stew, okay?” Mr. Andrews tells me before leaving me once more.

“Mmmhmmm...” I manage to moan.

I wriggle and writhe atop the desk, groaning through my gag. I slither slide forward and not the roll of tape off the desk like the petulant pet I am.