Speechless

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It doesn't take much to leave a torrid girl speechless. Take India Summer. She's a beauty, definitely, and I'm sure she's seen more than her honest share of torrid action, but she has never had a day like this before. Bondage isn't just rope. It's more than just physical punishment. Bondage is a way of managing someone by getting inwards their head, their heart and their soul. Once I've had a min to analyze India she is like putty in my hands. The wire corset I put around her figure is elaborate. Every inch conforms a purpose, though, as each strand confines her motion just a tiny bit more. Her arms are stiffly roped but her palms are free-for-all to reach for the knots I've cautiously positioned out of reach. The weak fingerblasting she controls only reassures her that she is not getting free. So far she has controlled to keep her sundress on. Or maybe it's a bit more correct to say I've permitted her that much. Not for long, though. The experiencing of having her apparel cut away is completely different than just unclothing her naked. The rags that stay of her outfit send a strenuous message. She is here to obey me for as lengthy as I want her. When I'm done she will be as effortless to discard as those tattered scraps.