Lauren Rice glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time. The soft tick of the second hand echoed faintly through the room, each passing moment stretching her imagination further. Outside, the evening sky was painted in dusky shades of purple and gold, casting long, warm shadows across the hardwood floor. Inside, the air was thick with silence—and anticipation.

She’d been home all afternoon, unable to focus on anything for more than a few minutes. Her thoughts kept circling back to you. The way you'd kissed her that morning before leaving. The look in your eyes. The promise in your smile. It had stirred something in her—a delicious sense of mischief she couldn’t shake.

Now, the living room had transformed into a private playground of ideas, each more daring than the last. The lights were dimmed, soft jazz curled through the air like smoke, and Lauren sat on the edge of the couch in nothing but her favorite bl*ck underwear set. The fabric hugged her curves like a second skin, cool and silky to the touch, the lace tracing over her hips with delicate confidence.

She crossed one leg over the other, admiring herself in the mirror across the room. There was power in her stillness, but she craved a different kind of tension tonight. Something more... provocative.

Her eyes drifted to the roll of tape sitting on the table—innocent enough on its own, but tonight it was the key to something more. Her lips curled into a smirk. Why not?

She rose slowly, savoring the way her body moved, the thrill building in her chest. One ankle, then the other, she wrapped the tape around herself snugly, binding her legs together at the ankles. The tension was immediate. She wriggled her toes, tested the resistance, and then moved up to her knees, binding them in place with practiced care.

Her breath caught. The helplessness felt strangely empowering.

Next came the gag. She carefully pulled a fresh strip of tape, pressed it lightly over her lips, and smoothed it down, her fingers brushing her cheeks. The silence became more complete, and her heartbeat louder. It was like slipping into a new persona—someone a l*ttle bolder, a l*ttle braver.

She picked up the handcuffs, the cool metal glinting faintly in the low light. The sound of the first cuff clicking shut was sharp, decisive. She secured her wrists in front of her and took a moment to adjust, sitting back against the couch, letting herself simply feel . The tug of the tape, the pressure of the cuffs, the quiet thrill of surrendering control—even just to herself—sent a shiver through her. She then pulled out one of her favourite toys, I mean, what better way to get warmed up than to use her favourite toy on herself. She turns it on, cuffed, taped and gagged and uses it in a way that only she knows how, and it does exactly what she wants and in no time at all she's writhing around in pleasure.

She stayed like that for a while, breathing through her nose, sinking deeper into the fantasy. She imagined you walking through the door, seeing her like this. Imagined your reaction. Your smile. The way you'd kneel beside her, whisper something teasing in her ear. The thought alone made her pulse quicken.

Eventually, she reached for the tiny key tucked beneath a cushion, unlocked the cuffs, and exhaled. But she wasn’t done.

Not even close.

With deliberate slowness, she moved her arms behind her back and locked the cuffs once more, this time out of reach. She leaned forward slightly to test her balance, then sat up again—proud, flushed, and waiting. Her breath was shallow now, but steady. Her eyes flicked to the door.

Any minute now, you'd be home.

And when you stepped inside, she'd be right there: silent, bound, breathless with excitement. She didn’t need to say a word. Her eyes would tell you everything.

There was nothing quite like a l*ttle self-b*ndage fun to get the heart racing... and the night started.

Self B*ndage B*llgagged Classic B*ndage Lauren Rice in Self b*ndage seduction with C4s.com

Self Bndage Bllgagged Classic Bndage Lauren Rice in Self bndage seduction with C4s.com