Master is always full of surprises. Like tonight, when he comes home with a large, ripe pumpkin in hand. “Trick or treat?” he whispers devilishly, pulling harshly at my long ponytail. Gagged already, I shrug my shoulders, as if I have any choice in the matter. As if I ever have a choice when he’s in this kind of mood.
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You have to admit she looks better dressed in ropes, a hard ball gag forcing her jaw wide. Take a gander at that wholesome freckled face, that sweet country-girl look. And breath deep, get yourself a lung full of the salty scent rising from her open crotch. Take your time with her, because she’s not going anywhere now that you’ve got a noose at her neck and you’ve trussed her like a calf…..
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The journey is beginning. I’m told to sit down on the floor as Master begins attaching me to a large, heavy steel triangle. My ankles are squeezed painfully into the metal cuffs. I guess people really can be big-boned, because my feet are going numb by the time he’s secured the metal collar around my neck and the cuffs on my wrists. He asks me to pull my legs out in front of me as far as I can. The pressure on my ankles causes me to wince, and I try to adjust my neck inside the collar it’s so tight…..
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The memories stagger in upon me chaotically, as in a dream. Insects stinging, drawing blood. My hands, my breasts, trapped in unyielding metal. My movements secured with hooks buried deep inside my body: I am filled, I am owned. I walk like a marionette, with every step the hooks pull with cruelty inside my ass and my pussy. When I am released it is only to be stretched over a log and staked out in the grass; again I am left vulnerable, unable to protect myself from insects, biting my open body. My head secured in place with stakes and a gag. Shrieking as a worm is dangled over my face, crawling into my nose, squirming its slippery flesh over my tongue and my lips. And yet one memory towers above the rest of my torment; he called it the mala mansio…..
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Thin blonde braids tumble over the shoulder, skimming her firm, supple breasts. In this article, 130, a Southern Belle with attitude, discovers some new uses for her long golden locks. After her interview, 130 is stripped and bound to a chair with legs spread wide. Nipples clamped, wrists bound in a V overhead, she is strung up like a marionette. Arms wave and tits bounce at the tug of a string.
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Silky and sensual, 331 makes a visit to the farm with PD. She whimpers and moans while PD fingers her pussy – as she’s hanging in a cage, shackled to a post, on her knees locked in metal stocks, and bound in the hay with her knees to her shoulders. A model submissive in Haypussy, 331 allows everything. For her reward, she’s comes and comes and comes.
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101! That zany wench is locked into unforgiving, heavy, restrictive metal bondage. The inquisition-style collar is slowly tightened until she can’t speak, can’t swallow, can barely breathe. Saliva foams from her lips. Her milky skin, large eyes, excessive breasts, and that lovely 101 smile. All of this and Molly locked in a box. To top it off, Sir Kai spanks 101’s sassy ass. The bondage is terrifying, disastrous. It so becomes 101.
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1203’s lean, flexible body, large mouth, and plump, natural breasts are a bondage lover’s dream. In her test article, PD explores the myriad possibilities. Clad in fishnets and a miniskirt, the young minx explains that she has had a little experience with BDSM but is eager for more.
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I notice it is dark outside and the moon casts an erie glow on the night. The sky changes quickly. Thunder rumbles in the distance, bringing a heavy downpour for the morning. I have plenty to keep me busy till the rain stops outside.
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The perfect mix of black and blue, 731 and betty share some quality time in the country. First PD ties the two girls tightly on a mattress, gagging them with socks and covering 731 with a canvas bag. He plays with their breath, suffocating them both till they are gasping and choking for air.
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Dairy available here.
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