At INSEX I discovered my new favorite therapy: xtasy through torture. Throughout my life I have always enjoyed the feeling of a blade slipping through my flesh or a needle sticking in a vein, and yet, I never went beyond these particular experiences. Only now, after my visit with INSEX, am I beginning to realize where I can go with those natural tendencies of mine and what pleasure may be in store.
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I want to do what I want to do. I don’t need no loud mouth, spoiled brat telling me what to do. I want someone who won’t bitch and moan all the time making me miserable! And I make sure she understands this! I want what I want ! When I decide to spend some time with her, if she complains about anything, I’ll put her aside with the others until she shuts her big mouth up!
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Spacegirl makes a big comeback as she comes, and comes, and comes again. She takes it all, full metal immobilization, cunt and nipple electro-torture, clothespins stripped from her breasts with a whip, strangulation, latex bondage, caning, blood sport, cattle prod, and head to toe mummification. But it’s the milking machine that pushes the poor girl over the edge.
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Young 828 finds herself in a whole lot of trouble in these dizzying shoots. She is first subjected to some strenuous bondage positions, wrapped tightly in Matt’s inescapable ties. Seated on a wooden box, her crossed legs are bound together and arms are pulled tight behind her back.
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How could He resist my flesh, savory, tantalizing, still showing the blush of youth? I am leaning forward, my breasts firm but soft, like ripe pears, as though He could sink His sharpened teeth there and juice would dribble to His chin. My wrists are bound and secured behind me to the back of the chair that I sit upon, locking me in position, exhibiting my helplessness.
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Forget sun and sand and swimsuits and cheesy bars and sleazy boys- all I wanted for my Spring Break was to soak in some suffering and sadism. So, after zooming through my last exam and tossing it on the professor’s desk an hour early, I grabbed my bags and bolted to the airport to get my Insex fix.
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The plank of wood is snugly tied to my outstretched arms, I feel its weight on my shoulders and walk gingerly in the high spike heels. He pushes me to the floor, the pressure on my knees and shins is unbearable. At first I remain very still, holding out as long as I can, and then: he begins to command me to move, insulting me, even kicking me as I am tied helpless.
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Blue haired Betty, struggles to make her way across the studio floor. The rusty chains and metal stocks that bind her naked body are making it extremely hard. A wide posture collar adds a nice touch to her slutty performance. She continues to inch her way little by little.
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202 is put through a series of brief bondage scenarios as she is trained to be a bondage slut. She begins sitting upon a stool in knee-length skirt and top. She is kept rigid by the fact that a collar is strapped around her neck and chained above her head.
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He broke all of his promises, those to himself, and to her. But what are words? Vacant, thin as paper, a succession of small wounds. “You’ll be a star,” he told her. “A super model.” The photo shoot began like all the others, tedious in its own way. Silken lingerie, corsets pressing the breasts up and mounded. Dreamy skin of a young girl.
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Dairy available here.
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