Bondage Rope Reverse Prayer, Chair Spanking & Cane Submission

I wander into the kitchen, bare and bold, collar gleaming, rope in my arms. I smirk at you — “Tie me up, please?” — teasing, cheeky, begging. You roll your eyes. I press closer, drop the rope at your feet. “Come on, make me yours.” You frown, clearly annoyed. You grab my hair, yank me forward, and start binding. A tight chest harness digs into my skin, rope pressing hard against my breasts. Then you shift it into a crotch rope — punishing me for being mouthy. I squirm. Legs tied close, no freedom, no teasing. I pout — I wanted play, not discipline. You force my arms into a reverse prayer, bend me over a chair. “Lesson time,” you growl, spanking me hard. I cry out, still taunting, still testing. You spank harder. I whimper, stubborn. Then the cane comes down — sharp, deliberate strikes until I fall silent. Bound, aching, dripping, and desperate for more.