Elise kneels upright on the big bed, snow light pouring soft and cold through the window behind her. The headboard looms solid, red rope running from her bound wrists and elbows straight back to it with just enough slack to let her rock forward and slide back a few inches. Her ankles are tied together, thighs bound tight to her upper legs in that deep bent-knee frog-tie, rope looped over each thigh and secured to the corresponding calf so her knees stay folded hard, no way to straighten or stand. The black latex teddy grips her thin frame like always, squeezing her narrow waist, stretching over her hips, hugging the massive swell of her chest. That deep cutout frames her heavy tits perfectly, nipples stiff against the glossy edge, everything on display for us while the ropes keep her locked in place.
She starts rocking right away, constant little shifts forward and back within the slack. The red rope creaks against the latex as she pulls, tits bouncing heavy in the cutout with every motion. Her thighs strain against the tight wraps, muscles flexing under the shiny black, knees refusing to budge.
“Look at me like this,” she says, voice low and playful, lips curved in a smile that knows exactly how good she looks. “All tied up in red rope, knees bent and locked so I can’t even think about standing. These thigh ropes are digging in so tight… feels fucking amazing against the latex.”
She rocks harder, sliding back until her ass almost lifts off her heels, then forward again, chest arching as the arm rope snaps taut. Her tits jiggle wildly with the motion, bouncing up and down in the cutout, latex rippling with every impact. The headboard rope gives just enough play to let her lean, but not enough to get free.
“Every forward rock shoves my tits forward in this cutout,” she murmurs, eyes locked straight on us. “Feels so good when the rope catches and makes them bounce heavier. So full, so heavy, loving every second of this.”
She twists her shoulders side to side, testing the wrist and elbow binds, making her chest sway left and right. The latex squeaks loud with each twist, red rope framing her tits even more as the cutout strains. Her thighs flex again, rope biting deeper into the glossy surface, forcing that squat-like kneel to stay locked.
“Fuck, these thigh ropes are holding me so tight,” she says, rocking faster now, constant writhing that makes her whole body shift on the bed. “Can’t extend my knees, can’t spread, can’t do anything but grind against them. And every grind makes my tits bounce harder. You see that? Every little pull… every creak… it’s all for you.”
She leans forward as far as the slack allows, tits spilling forward in the cutout, then rocks back, ass pressing down toward her heels. The motion sends another big jiggle through her chest, latex gleaming in the cold snow light, red ropes contrasting sharp against black.
“Knowing you’re watching me tied up like this… getting so hard while I bounce and strain… that’s what makes it fun,” she says, voice dripping heat and enjoyment. “I could stay right here all day, letting these ropes squeeze me, letting my tits show off. Every wriggle, every bounce, every time the latex creaks… it’s all yours to enjoy.”
She keeps the constant motion going, rocking, twisting, pulling against the headboard rope, thighs fighting the tight wraps, tits bouncing heavy and relentless in the glossy frame. The bed shifts faintly under her, snow falling silent outside the window, but inside the room it’s all heat, all tease, all her having the grand old time being bound and watched.
“Keep staring, baby,” she whispers, rocking one more big forward thrust that makes her tits leap. “I’m not going anywhere… and neither are you.”
