Violet Bound: The OnlyFans Girl’s Submission (M/F)
Posted: Sat Jul 19, 2025 7:04 pm
Hello, kinky smut lovers!
Welcome to the next instalment of the Violet Bound series. You don’t need to have read the first story to enjoy this one, but I’ll drop a link in the comments if you want the full experience. Enjoy!
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I logged into my OnlyFans, VioletMoon, and a sly smile curled on my lips. Ever since I’d slipped deeper into kink, my posts had become hungrier, filthier. The punters, who soon became my subscribers, loved it.
I glanced at the latest picture. A girl in her early twenties stared back. Light brown hair streaked purple, a silver septum ring glinting under soft light. My grin was wicked, one eye winking as my tongue teased my lip. A black leather collar hugged my throat, a chain leash pulled just taut enough to make me look owned. The caption read: “If you punish me, I only get hornier.” Judging by the comment frenzy, it had worked. I smiled, the money my OnlyFans was bringing wasn’t enough to drag me out of the financial blackhole that going to university, and cutting ties with my family, had put me in. But it was a start.
A notification pinged…a tip. I clicked. £600. From Lucas.
My stomach fluttered. My mind flashed back to our last “date”; how he’d recognised me, lured me into his hotel suite with money, and left me bound, drooling, screaming in pleasure. My toes curled at the memory of straining helplessly against my bonds, his voice calm, unhurried, as if I’d always belonged to him.
Under the tip was a simple message: "6pm. Cosmopolitan Hotel. Room 275. Wear the collar."
I bit my lip and typed, “Heyyy. Just saw your tip. You’re back in town?”
Minutes passed. His reply: “Yes. 6pm. Don’t forget the collar.”
I huffed, tossing my phone aside. Typical Lucas. No details. No small talk. Just orders. My fingers skimmed my bare arm, lingering. Was it the money drawing me back… or the way he made me feel like I didn’t have a choice? “Maybe both.” I muttered to myself
Evening came. The Cosmopolitan lobby was sleek and hushed. The receptionist barely glanced up before buzzing me through to the lifts. My reflection stared back from the mirrored wall as I ascended. I’d left the collar hidden in my rucksack, I was never going to wear it in public. In its place: a black hoodie over a cropped white top, grey cargos, and red Converse. Hardly seductive. But if he wanted more, he should’ve asked.
My pulse was racing by the time I reached room 275. I double-checked the number on my phone, and knocked. Lucas answered. Exactly as I remembered. Tall, broad, tanned skin stretched over defined muscle. Cropped dark hair peppered with grey at the temples, neat stubble framing a mouth that always smiled like he already owned the room. He wore charcoal trousers and a crisp white shirt, collar open, sleeves rolled to his forearms. “Violet,” he said smoothly. “Glad you could make it on such short notice.”
I stepped past him, inhaling that familiar scent, warm vanilla with a sharpness beneath, like smoke.
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t doing anything else,” I replied lightly, though my chest felt tight just being near him.
The suite was immaculate: floor-to-ceiling windows framing the city skyline, a king-size bed dressed in crisp white linen, a gleaming minibar, everything polished and deliberate. I raised a brow. “Aren’t you worried about people seeing what we’re doing with all these windows?”
Lucas smirked, leaning against the bed. “Oh, so you’re eager to get tied up already?”
I scoffed, waving a hand, trying to hide the excitement brewing beneath the skin. “Pffft.”
“I’ll pull the curtains,” he teased. “Wouldn’t want any low-flying helicopters or curious giraffes peeking in.”
I laughed despite myself, but the humor faded. “So… why am I here? What’s the plan?”
His eyes locked on mine, unblinking. “I want to tie you up,” he said simply. “I liked last time. I think you did too.”
Heat bloomed low in my belly. My throat went dry. “Yeah…” I murmured, glancing down, “…tie me up then.”
His voice dropped, calm but commanding. “Say please. And undress. Bra and panties.”
I swallowed hard and nodded.
Moments later, I knelt on the bed, clad in just a purple bra and black boy shorts, skin tingling with anticipation. My voice trembled as I looked up at him. “Tie me up then… please.”
Lucas walked over to a chair and pulled a thick bundle of soft, red cotton rope from his bag. “Remember the safety gestures?” he asked.
“Mmhmm,” I nodded, heart fluttering.
He motioned for me to turn around, and I obeyed, still kneeling. I felt his hands cross my wrists behind me, fingers gentle but firm as he bound them snugly with rope. A soft sigh escaped me as he picked up the next length, folding it neatly before looping it beneath my breasts. The rope pressed warm and soft against my skin as he pulled it tight, then shifted it higher, weaving it carefully above my chest. His touch was steady, deliberate, as he knotted it off and guided the rope over my left shoulder, underneath the lower loop, then over my right shoulder. The harness tightened across my chest, pressing my breasts forward, making me moan softly. My tongue darted out as I smiled, testing my bonds, revelling in their snug hold.
Not yet finished, Lucas paused, eyes darkening with intent. He eased me back slightly, and I felt my boy shorts slip down as he kept his gaze locked on mine. With slow precision, he lifted my left ankle, guiding it toward my hip. The rope followed his lead, wrapping tight around my ankle and thigh, folding me into a restrictive frogtie. I watched the ropes climb, constricting, binding, until the final knot secured me utterly. Then he mirrored the bind on my right leg. I was helpless, immobile, and completely his.
I struggled in my bonds, knowing there was no escape but savouring the helplessness. I shifted closer to Lucas, clumsy in my ropes, offering him a wry smile. Leaning forward, I closed my eyes, silently begging for a kiss. His hand slid to the side of my head, gentle but deliberate, guiding me to his lips. The first kiss was soft, teasing. I whimpered and leaned in again. What followed was molten; a messy, consuming make-out that stole the air from my lungs. My tongue tangled with his, desperate and needy. His hands roamed my body with infuriating precision, touching just enough to ignite a craving for more. I writhed against my restraints, wrists twisting, aching to grab hold of him, but bound and helpless I could only take what he gave me.
When he finally pulled back, I stayed there on my knees, breathless, giving him wide, pleading eyes. He straightened slowly, smoothing his shirt cuffs, taking a measured breath.
“We need to talk,” he said, voice calm but edged with steel. “About your behaviour.”
The air shifted. My stomach dropped. “Wha…?”
“I treat you like a princess,” he continued, unhurried, “and you still find ways to disrespect me. Is that fair?”
“I… what? What are you talking about?” I stammered.
His eyes flicked to my bare neck. “For example, where’s the collar I told you to wear?”
“It’s in my bag,” I admitted, heat creeping to my cheeks. “I thought… it would be weird to wear it in public.”
“I didn’t ask why,” he said flatly, stepping toward my bag. “You disobeyed me.”
He unzipped it, pulling out the thick leather collar. The padlock at the back jingled softly in his hand. “Where’d you get this?”
“A subscriber bought it for me. He’s… sweet.” The collar closed around my throat in a smooth motion. I heard the padlock click as he locked it, and I saw him pocket the key.
“Funny,” he murmured, leaning closer, “do you talk to them the way you talk to me?”
“Erm… yes?” The lie came out thin, unconvincing.
His lips curved, not in amusement but in warning. “I don’t believe you.” He tilted his head, dark eyes drilling into me. “Tell me your phone passcode. I’ll see for myself.”
My heart lurched. “Fuck off. No way!” I squirmed in the ropes, testing them even though I knew I couldn’t get free.
He leaned in, his whisper sharp as a blade against my ear. “You’ll tell me that passcode… and then you’ll apologize for being such a brat.”
Lucas picked up another length of rope, his movements deliberate, almost lazy in their confidence. He folded it in half, threading the midpoint through the steel ring on the front of my collar. The tug was firm, coaxing a soft gasp from my throat as he made me shuffle toward the headboard. Every movement felt clumsy and vulnerable, the ropes already holding my body hostage. I grunted softly with the effort, feeling the subtle pull of my bonds with every shift.
At the headboard, he tied the rope off to one of the sturdy wooden slats, leaving me tethered upright. I stayed still, breathing shallowly, feeling the weight of his gaze linger on me. My chest rose and fell in anticipation as I waited for whatever came next. I watched him take, purposeful steps across the room. The rustle of fabric. The faint click of a zipper. When he returned. He placed something soft on the bed beside me, and then, from behind, I felt the whisper of silk against my temple. A length of smooth black satin slid across my face, cool and teasing. He lowered it over my eyes with slow precision, his fingers brushing my hairline, tucking a stray strand behind my ear before pulling the blindfold snug. Darkness swallowed me whole. My world was now breath, touch, and the faint sound of his breathing behind me. There was a brief pause, then I heard it. The quiet hum of a wand vibrator as he turned it on somewhere out of reach. My pulse quickened. Blind, bound, and tethered, I was entirely his… a toy waiting to be played with exactly how he pleased.
The wand slid between my thighs, pressing firmly against my clitoris. A sharp, helpless moan tore from my throat as pleasure sparked like electricity through every nerve. I couldn’t stop myself; I rocked against it instinctively, grinding for more, each vibration sending ripples of heat deeper and deeper. My breathing turned shallow and ragged. The tension building fast, coiling low in my belly, that sweet, inevitable crescendo… And then it was gone, he’d turned the vibrator off.
I gasped, biting my lip hard enough to sting. My hips twitched in the empty air, desperate to chase what was stolen. “So this is your plan?” I panted, voice already trembling. “This is how you’re going to get the passcode out of me?”
“Mmhm,” Lucas murmured behind me, maddeningly calm. “And we both know it’s going to work.” The wand returned without warning, the vibrations slamming into me again. A moan spilled out, louder this time, as I twisted helplessly in my ropes. Blind to everything but sensation, his voice and the relentless hum became my whole universe. I lost track of time, lost in the rhythm, teetering on the edge… And once more, nothing. The silence was deafening. I whimpered, breathless.
“Are you going to tell me now?” His voice was low, so close to my ear it sent shivers down my spine.
“No…” I gasped, defiant even through the desperation. “Fuck you.” I pulled uselessly against the tether, the collar biting gently into my neck with every movement.
“Okay then.” The wand was back, pressed cruelly against my clit, but this time his free hand clamped over my mouth, muffling the cry that burst out of me.
“Mmmmmph!” My moans vibrated against his palm as I rocked harder, every muscle straining in pleasure and frustration. Bound, blindfolded, gagged by his touch, I was nothing but raw sensation. The pressure inside me tightened, almost painful with how close it was. I felt my pulse hammer in my ears. I was right there, seconds away, teetering…
“MMMMMMPH!” I tried to beg, to scream, but he yanked the vibrator away again, his hand still silencing me. My entire body trembled with need.
“Are you going to tell me your passcode?” His tone was sharp now, commanding.
I shook my head violently against his hand, a pitiful sound caught in my throat. Frustration burned through me. It left me breathless, trembling, desperate for either release, or more punishment.
The wand pressed against me again, a teasing hum that sent sparks racing through my core. But this time, his hand shifted. His thumb pinched my nostrils closed while his palm sealed over my mouth. My breath caught instantly. I tried to moan, tried to protest, but the sounds died against his skin. My heart hammered in my chest, the denial of air colliding with the relentless vibrations between my legs. I was drowning in sensation; panic fluttering at the edges, but laced with intoxicating heat. The adrenaline made everything sharper, dirtier. My body begged for release, trembling under the double assault of restraint and pleasure. I could feel the pressure coiling in my belly, tightening, threatening to snap. I clawed at the sheets behind me, hands twitching in their bonds, desperate to hold him, to signal that I was so close I could taste it. My head turned instinctively, searching for even the faintest sip of air, but it only underlined the truth. I was helpless, completely at his mercy.
And then, right at the brink, the second before I toppled over the edge… he let go. The vibrator vanished, and air rushed into my lungs like fire. I gasped, both for oxygen and out of raw, aching frustration, my chest heaving as my body throbbed with need that had nowhere to go. I rested my forehead against the headboard, trembling.
His breath brushed my ear, and he cooed. “You’re not cumming until you give me the passcode.”
I grit my teeth, trying to hold on to some shred of defiance… but my body betrayed me, still humming with denial. After a long, shaky pause, I whispered, “1473.”
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Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Part two is on its way, so keep an eye out. Things are only just beginning, and Violet’s about to learn how deep the game really goes. Feedback and thoughts are always welcome!!!
Welcome to the next instalment of the Violet Bound series. You don’t need to have read the first story to enjoy this one, but I’ll drop a link in the comments if you want the full experience. Enjoy!
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
I logged into my OnlyFans, VioletMoon, and a sly smile curled on my lips. Ever since I’d slipped deeper into kink, my posts had become hungrier, filthier. The punters, who soon became my subscribers, loved it.
I glanced at the latest picture. A girl in her early twenties stared back. Light brown hair streaked purple, a silver septum ring glinting under soft light. My grin was wicked, one eye winking as my tongue teased my lip. A black leather collar hugged my throat, a chain leash pulled just taut enough to make me look owned. The caption read: “If you punish me, I only get hornier.” Judging by the comment frenzy, it had worked. I smiled, the money my OnlyFans was bringing wasn’t enough to drag me out of the financial blackhole that going to university, and cutting ties with my family, had put me in. But it was a start.
A notification pinged…a tip. I clicked. £600. From Lucas.
My stomach fluttered. My mind flashed back to our last “date”; how he’d recognised me, lured me into his hotel suite with money, and left me bound, drooling, screaming in pleasure. My toes curled at the memory of straining helplessly against my bonds, his voice calm, unhurried, as if I’d always belonged to him.
Under the tip was a simple message: "6pm. Cosmopolitan Hotel. Room 275. Wear the collar."
I bit my lip and typed, “Heyyy. Just saw your tip. You’re back in town?”
Minutes passed. His reply: “Yes. 6pm. Don’t forget the collar.”
I huffed, tossing my phone aside. Typical Lucas. No details. No small talk. Just orders. My fingers skimmed my bare arm, lingering. Was it the money drawing me back… or the way he made me feel like I didn’t have a choice? “Maybe both.” I muttered to myself
Evening came. The Cosmopolitan lobby was sleek and hushed. The receptionist barely glanced up before buzzing me through to the lifts. My reflection stared back from the mirrored wall as I ascended. I’d left the collar hidden in my rucksack, I was never going to wear it in public. In its place: a black hoodie over a cropped white top, grey cargos, and red Converse. Hardly seductive. But if he wanted more, he should’ve asked.
My pulse was racing by the time I reached room 275. I double-checked the number on my phone, and knocked. Lucas answered. Exactly as I remembered. Tall, broad, tanned skin stretched over defined muscle. Cropped dark hair peppered with grey at the temples, neat stubble framing a mouth that always smiled like he already owned the room. He wore charcoal trousers and a crisp white shirt, collar open, sleeves rolled to his forearms. “Violet,” he said smoothly. “Glad you could make it on such short notice.”
I stepped past him, inhaling that familiar scent, warm vanilla with a sharpness beneath, like smoke.
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t doing anything else,” I replied lightly, though my chest felt tight just being near him.
The suite was immaculate: floor-to-ceiling windows framing the city skyline, a king-size bed dressed in crisp white linen, a gleaming minibar, everything polished and deliberate. I raised a brow. “Aren’t you worried about people seeing what we’re doing with all these windows?”
Lucas smirked, leaning against the bed. “Oh, so you’re eager to get tied up already?”
I scoffed, waving a hand, trying to hide the excitement brewing beneath the skin. “Pffft.”
“I’ll pull the curtains,” he teased. “Wouldn’t want any low-flying helicopters or curious giraffes peeking in.”
I laughed despite myself, but the humor faded. “So… why am I here? What’s the plan?”
His eyes locked on mine, unblinking. “I want to tie you up,” he said simply. “I liked last time. I think you did too.”
Heat bloomed low in my belly. My throat went dry. “Yeah…” I murmured, glancing down, “…tie me up then.”
His voice dropped, calm but commanding. “Say please. And undress. Bra and panties.”
I swallowed hard and nodded.
Moments later, I knelt on the bed, clad in just a purple bra and black boy shorts, skin tingling with anticipation. My voice trembled as I looked up at him. “Tie me up then… please.”
Lucas walked over to a chair and pulled a thick bundle of soft, red cotton rope from his bag. “Remember the safety gestures?” he asked.
“Mmhmm,” I nodded, heart fluttering.
He motioned for me to turn around, and I obeyed, still kneeling. I felt his hands cross my wrists behind me, fingers gentle but firm as he bound them snugly with rope. A soft sigh escaped me as he picked up the next length, folding it neatly before looping it beneath my breasts. The rope pressed warm and soft against my skin as he pulled it tight, then shifted it higher, weaving it carefully above my chest. His touch was steady, deliberate, as he knotted it off and guided the rope over my left shoulder, underneath the lower loop, then over my right shoulder. The harness tightened across my chest, pressing my breasts forward, making me moan softly. My tongue darted out as I smiled, testing my bonds, revelling in their snug hold.
Not yet finished, Lucas paused, eyes darkening with intent. He eased me back slightly, and I felt my boy shorts slip down as he kept his gaze locked on mine. With slow precision, he lifted my left ankle, guiding it toward my hip. The rope followed his lead, wrapping tight around my ankle and thigh, folding me into a restrictive frogtie. I watched the ropes climb, constricting, binding, until the final knot secured me utterly. Then he mirrored the bind on my right leg. I was helpless, immobile, and completely his.
I struggled in my bonds, knowing there was no escape but savouring the helplessness. I shifted closer to Lucas, clumsy in my ropes, offering him a wry smile. Leaning forward, I closed my eyes, silently begging for a kiss. His hand slid to the side of my head, gentle but deliberate, guiding me to his lips. The first kiss was soft, teasing. I whimpered and leaned in again. What followed was molten; a messy, consuming make-out that stole the air from my lungs. My tongue tangled with his, desperate and needy. His hands roamed my body with infuriating precision, touching just enough to ignite a craving for more. I writhed against my restraints, wrists twisting, aching to grab hold of him, but bound and helpless I could only take what he gave me.
When he finally pulled back, I stayed there on my knees, breathless, giving him wide, pleading eyes. He straightened slowly, smoothing his shirt cuffs, taking a measured breath.
“We need to talk,” he said, voice calm but edged with steel. “About your behaviour.”
The air shifted. My stomach dropped. “Wha…?”
“I treat you like a princess,” he continued, unhurried, “and you still find ways to disrespect me. Is that fair?”
“I… what? What are you talking about?” I stammered.
His eyes flicked to my bare neck. “For example, where’s the collar I told you to wear?”
“It’s in my bag,” I admitted, heat creeping to my cheeks. “I thought… it would be weird to wear it in public.”
“I didn’t ask why,” he said flatly, stepping toward my bag. “You disobeyed me.”
He unzipped it, pulling out the thick leather collar. The padlock at the back jingled softly in his hand. “Where’d you get this?”
“A subscriber bought it for me. He’s… sweet.” The collar closed around my throat in a smooth motion. I heard the padlock click as he locked it, and I saw him pocket the key.
“Funny,” he murmured, leaning closer, “do you talk to them the way you talk to me?”
“Erm… yes?” The lie came out thin, unconvincing.
His lips curved, not in amusement but in warning. “I don’t believe you.” He tilted his head, dark eyes drilling into me. “Tell me your phone passcode. I’ll see for myself.”
My heart lurched. “Fuck off. No way!” I squirmed in the ropes, testing them even though I knew I couldn’t get free.
He leaned in, his whisper sharp as a blade against my ear. “You’ll tell me that passcode… and then you’ll apologize for being such a brat.”
Lucas picked up another length of rope, his movements deliberate, almost lazy in their confidence. He folded it in half, threading the midpoint through the steel ring on the front of my collar. The tug was firm, coaxing a soft gasp from my throat as he made me shuffle toward the headboard. Every movement felt clumsy and vulnerable, the ropes already holding my body hostage. I grunted softly with the effort, feeling the subtle pull of my bonds with every shift.
At the headboard, he tied the rope off to one of the sturdy wooden slats, leaving me tethered upright. I stayed still, breathing shallowly, feeling the weight of his gaze linger on me. My chest rose and fell in anticipation as I waited for whatever came next. I watched him take, purposeful steps across the room. The rustle of fabric. The faint click of a zipper. When he returned. He placed something soft on the bed beside me, and then, from behind, I felt the whisper of silk against my temple. A length of smooth black satin slid across my face, cool and teasing. He lowered it over my eyes with slow precision, his fingers brushing my hairline, tucking a stray strand behind my ear before pulling the blindfold snug. Darkness swallowed me whole. My world was now breath, touch, and the faint sound of his breathing behind me. There was a brief pause, then I heard it. The quiet hum of a wand vibrator as he turned it on somewhere out of reach. My pulse quickened. Blind, bound, and tethered, I was entirely his… a toy waiting to be played with exactly how he pleased.
The wand slid between my thighs, pressing firmly against my clitoris. A sharp, helpless moan tore from my throat as pleasure sparked like electricity through every nerve. I couldn’t stop myself; I rocked against it instinctively, grinding for more, each vibration sending ripples of heat deeper and deeper. My breathing turned shallow and ragged. The tension building fast, coiling low in my belly, that sweet, inevitable crescendo… And then it was gone, he’d turned the vibrator off.
I gasped, biting my lip hard enough to sting. My hips twitched in the empty air, desperate to chase what was stolen. “So this is your plan?” I panted, voice already trembling. “This is how you’re going to get the passcode out of me?”
“Mmhm,” Lucas murmured behind me, maddeningly calm. “And we both know it’s going to work.” The wand returned without warning, the vibrations slamming into me again. A moan spilled out, louder this time, as I twisted helplessly in my ropes. Blind to everything but sensation, his voice and the relentless hum became my whole universe. I lost track of time, lost in the rhythm, teetering on the edge… And once more, nothing. The silence was deafening. I whimpered, breathless.
“Are you going to tell me now?” His voice was low, so close to my ear it sent shivers down my spine.
“No…” I gasped, defiant even through the desperation. “Fuck you.” I pulled uselessly against the tether, the collar biting gently into my neck with every movement.
“Okay then.” The wand was back, pressed cruelly against my clit, but this time his free hand clamped over my mouth, muffling the cry that burst out of me.
“Mmmmmph!” My moans vibrated against his palm as I rocked harder, every muscle straining in pleasure and frustration. Bound, blindfolded, gagged by his touch, I was nothing but raw sensation. The pressure inside me tightened, almost painful with how close it was. I felt my pulse hammer in my ears. I was right there, seconds away, teetering…
“MMMMMMPH!” I tried to beg, to scream, but he yanked the vibrator away again, his hand still silencing me. My entire body trembled with need.
“Are you going to tell me your passcode?” His tone was sharp now, commanding.
I shook my head violently against his hand, a pitiful sound caught in my throat. Frustration burned through me. It left me breathless, trembling, desperate for either release, or more punishment.
The wand pressed against me again, a teasing hum that sent sparks racing through my core. But this time, his hand shifted. His thumb pinched my nostrils closed while his palm sealed over my mouth. My breath caught instantly. I tried to moan, tried to protest, but the sounds died against his skin. My heart hammered in my chest, the denial of air colliding with the relentless vibrations between my legs. I was drowning in sensation; panic fluttering at the edges, but laced with intoxicating heat. The adrenaline made everything sharper, dirtier. My body begged for release, trembling under the double assault of restraint and pleasure. I could feel the pressure coiling in my belly, tightening, threatening to snap. I clawed at the sheets behind me, hands twitching in their bonds, desperate to hold him, to signal that I was so close I could taste it. My head turned instinctively, searching for even the faintest sip of air, but it only underlined the truth. I was helpless, completely at his mercy.
And then, right at the brink, the second before I toppled over the edge… he let go. The vibrator vanished, and air rushed into my lungs like fire. I gasped, both for oxygen and out of raw, aching frustration, my chest heaving as my body throbbed with need that had nowhere to go. I rested my forehead against the headboard, trembling.
His breath brushed my ear, and he cooed. “You’re not cumming until you give me the passcode.”
I grit my teeth, trying to hold on to some shred of defiance… but my body betrayed me, still humming with denial. After a long, shaky pause, I whispered, “1473.”
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Part two is on its way, so keep an eye out. Things are only just beginning, and Violet’s about to learn how deep the game really goes. Feedback and thoughts are always welcome!!!
