My reflection swam in the Vespa’s mirror: wrists bound to the luggage rack, knees on the rubber mat. Heavy. The leather hood was sweat-slick. The ropes were hemp, rough as a backroad. Heavy bondage.
Because the heaviest cage isn't iron. It's the moment you surrender to the ride that never leaves the garage. The key turned with a soft click. Not the ignition. The lock on the cuffs. ReflectiveDesire - Vespa- Heavy - Heavy Bondage...
He kicked the stand up. The Vespa wobbled. My pulse slammed. My reflection swam in the Vespa’s mirror: wrists
The Vespa isn’t fast. It’s a growl, not a scream. But tonight, under the garage’s single fluorescent eye, it’s a stage. not a scream. But tonight
“Don’t fall,” he smiled. “Or do.” Collection: ReflectiveDesire // Vespa Heavy