Chapter 35 GARAGE BONDAGE SQUIRT FEST

Remi Winters 1.8k words

The jute rope sank into my wrists like it was starving, fibers tightening over the raw skin I'd already split open from twisting too hard last time.

I hung from a frame bolted to the garage ceiling. My toes barely touched the oil-stained floor. My ankles were cuffed to a spreader...

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