fredzilla

“Aww, sorry to hear that, baby,” Her dad replied, but she was barely paying attention. He’d started to rub up and down her back with his big warm hand and her stupid horny brain was getting excited again.

Something was wrong. I struggled to open my eyes, blearily forcing myself to focus. I was in a red-panelled room, dimly lit, one I'd never been in before, with... things, on the walls. Whips, floggers, toys of all descr*ptions, most of which I couldn't even name. It was only then that I realized I was naked, bound on my back to a table with my legs spread into a slight V in the air, wrists above my head, a belt around my waist holding me down. I lifted my head, and saw that my six-inch dick was hard and straining, twitching without my command. Why the fuck was I hard? Arousal was the last thing I was feeling! Confusion, fear, panic, yes. But not arousal.

Sure that the replica headband was safe, he took a deep breath and put it on. The second the knot was tied, his whole body spasmed and became rigid, leaving him unable to move, as if he were awake during surgery. It was a strange sensation, like every muscle had a weight attached. Fortunately, his heart and lungs seemed unencumbered, so he wasn’t in danger, and he could also still speak, probably so that the user could call for help since they likely wouldn’t be able to remove the headband on their own, but no matter how much he pushed or pulled, he could not resist the invisible binds. Saimallah said that the wearer could only move by keeping their mana energized and flowing at full capacity, so that’s what Noah focused on.