Harley Taken

Title: Bound, Gagged and Bred: Harley Taken Uncensored

The girl known as Harley was in deep trouble. Not the kind that nasty reality shows offered to their contestants, but real, flesh-and-blood trouble. Bound in tight ropes, gagged and blindfolded, she lay there, limbs akimbo, in a dark, unfamiliar place. The stale scent of sweat and fear hung in the air.

This wasn’t part of the plan. She had signed up for an “Extreme Cosplay” experience at an online forum, lured in by the allure of adventure and mystery. But this, this was beyond anything she could have imagined.

A sudden footstep broke the silence. Heavy, thudding against the linoleum floor. Then another. Closer this time. Harley’s heart raced as she listened to them pace around her. A shadow fell across her naked body, and she shuddered.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s finally awake,” a deep, gritty voice spoke, barely above a whisper. “I must say, you’re even more beautiful in person.”

A pair of strong hands grabbed her ankles, spreading her legs wide open. Harley whimpered softly against the ball gag, her breath hot and heavy. She felt vulnerable, exposed, helpless. But there was a part of her, a small but growing part, that almost enjoyed the thrill.

The worst part? Her own body’s response. As her captor ran his hands along her inner thighs, teasing, threatening, she felt an unwelcome tingle in her core. Her skin prickled with goosebumps, nipples hardening against the silken ropes.

“Please,” she muttered against the gag, her words meaningless. But it didn’t matter. Harley knew exactly what was coming next.

Her captor chuckled darkly. “Oh, you’ll beg plenty, little one. But not just yet.” He leaned in close, his face mere inches from hers. “First, we play.”

And so it began. An hour, maybe two, of pure, unfiltered depravity. He used her body like a toy, a plaything for his own twisted amusement. The ropes tightened, the gag muffled her screams, and all the while, that dark voice urged her to submit, to give in to the shame.

“Harley’s quite the naughty girl, isn’t she?” he purred, delivering a sharp smack to her ass. She yelped, arching her back involuntarily. Her pussy throbbed, hot and needy. “Always looking for trouble. Well, trouble just found her.”

Still blindfolded, she could only imagine the lewd positions he bent and twisted her into next – lying face down on a bench, wrists shackled high above her head and belly against the cool leather seat; kneeling with her knees apart and his giant French bull dog breeders impregnating her unexpectedly; face down tickled by his flattering taunting for several minutes; bound tightly in full on ulna packed straight jacket and nada rope, almost trussed with five ropes binding from that line aimed at the neck, mummified and stock fed through the noseplug and gagged; tied at the feet with the arms below and balancing on the toes, leather cuffs around the arms that keep yanked in the loops as your head is compresses by a bokken under the chin and than you feciate drooling pics; side view, diaper in holder, bound in full hobble shit; and bent over fondling her tits, tying against the headboard and pressed down against her pussy, her pussy is juicy when stretched out face down bent over the table, and smartly beat with frass, the long spider, oldest the Sanders, witches without their flooding – all posing positions she could have only dreamed of mere hours before.

The worst part, Harley realized, was how much she was starting to enjoy it. Her body burned with a desire she had never known. She ached to be touched, violated, teased. And her kidnapper seemed to know exactly how to push her buttons.

“Fuck… ” she whimpered around the gag as his hands clamped down on her throat, squeezing just a little too tight. The world started to go fuzzy at the edges. “Fuck… fuck… ”

He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. “That’s right, you like this, don’t you? Being helpless. At my mercy.” He squeezed harder, and she saw stars. “Beg me to stop if you really want me to.”

Harley opened her mouth, trying to form coherent words. But all that came out was a gurgle. She couldn’t even mouth the silent “stop” she knew she should. Because deep down, she didn’t really want this to end.

Her kidnapper smirked, knowing exactly what she was thinking. “I thought not.” He released her neck, and she gasped, sucking in a desperate lungful of air. “You’re going to be my little plaything, you know. My own personal fucktoy.”

He grabbed her hair, jerking her head back sharply. She let out a strangled whine, vainly struggling against the ropes. He had her right where he wanted her. And they both knew it.

“Now,” he said, his voice like a velvet-covered whip, “let’s have some real fun.”

The next part was a blur of sensation. Pain, pleasure, violation, and shame, all twisted together into one long, unending hazing ritual. She lost track of how many orgasms he wrung out of her, how many positions he tied her into. All she knew was the burn in her muscles, the ache in her joints, and the ever-growing shame in her heart.

By the time it was over, she was spent, broken, completely used up. Drool had stained the ball gag, her skin was slick with sweat, and her inner thighs glistened with the evidence of her own arousal.

As he untied her, she barely had the strength to whimper. When the blindfold came off, she blinked in the sudden light. And saw the camera still rolling, capturing every moment for posterity.

“Something tells me this isn’t going to be the only video of you on the internet soon,” he said with a wicked grin. “Maybe something to masturbate to in your downtime?”

Harley shuddered, a mix of dread and shameful excitement. This was just the beginning, she realized. Her kidnapper had marked her, corrupted her. And she knew, deep down, that she was going to let him do it again. And again. And again.

The power of being bound was too strong, the thrill of submission too intoxicating. She was hooked. Harley was his now. His broken, depraved little plaything.

And she couldn’t wait for their next game.