Fayth On Fire Chair Taped and Struggling, Not Going Dancing

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I was exhilarated to go out with pals as I put on a adorable tiny dress, dark-hued pantyhose, and uber-cute strappy high high-heeled slippers but my counterpart didn’t want me to go out and he knew the only way to keep me home was to keep me put. So here I am, highly safely duct taped to an office chair. I am bitching and groaning that I just want to go out and dance with my pals but evidently this fighting in tapebondage is the only dancing im doing tonight. My ankles, my calves, my knees, my thighs, wrists, forearms, and pecs are all taped to this stool and I barely can move. Fortunately he didn’t gauze my gams to the stool so I can crush them up and attempt to wiggle my ankles to attempt and loosen the tape, but to no avail. He is fastly done hearing my voice so the next thing I know, I have several peels off of duct gauze over my facehole to shut me up. I mpph and gag chat but definitely not as loud. I am not glad being stuck to this stool as I do ultimately control to get off my hip and calf restraints but thats all I am able to loosen. I attempt and I attempt to fight free-for-all but with no luck. He gives you a great close up view at all the gauze wrapped around my limbs and my stocking caked gams and even the gusset inbetween my gams since my sundress moved up my tights. Furthermore, he decides to stop letting me view around as he places a paper bag over my head with the words “Stuck & Grounded” written on it. I fight more and gagtalk from underneath the paper but it looks like this is what im doing for his refreshment tonight. I guess on the plus side, I will save money and my soles from dancing in these heals.