angelica gets down and dirty at the Insex farm.
Lead out to the barn, the British beauty is bound to a wooden beam with rope pulled tight around her neck. Kneeling against the hard, filthy floor, she languishes and moans desperately. PD hangs one leg from the beam then beats the helpless captive with a bundle of rope.
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Wide-eyed, wiry wenona steps apprehensively onto the Insex scene, realizing too late that this is not just another modeling gig. Her interview begins innocently enough, but quickly escalates. Within minutes, she is stripped of her shorts and tank top and bound in unforgiving steel. A metal bra clamps her tight tits; a hook presses up deep into her cunt. Drooling and mumbling, she continues to answer PD’s questions, impeded by a metal bit gag.
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It was like an awakening for me. Like I had never seen or felt anything real until that moment. And suddenly, it was all very clear. I was immersed in reality, swimming in it. And there was nothing to do but embrace it.
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Bj’s back, shackled and looking so hot in her lace panties an bra, her sexy body lies on the floor ready for anything. Sir Barry’s expert caning amuses her and she doesn’t seem nervous at all. Cocky bj yells with a smirk in her voice “I’m a bondage slut.”
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She hangs by her ankles in a dark room. A faint light illuminates her body, naked, ethereal. Her sounds, high-pitched cries and squeals muffled by the gag, echo in the darkness. The rope that pinions her arms behind her also draws back her shoulders, pushing her breasts outward. Dim shapes of the surrounding chamber compose the frame, her shape centered, as though hanging meat can be a thing made divine.
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Angelica suffers a grueling Live Feed of agony, laced with short bursts of ecstasy. Repeated strangulation, painful bondage and shackles, cigarette burns, caning, the milking machine, cunt torture, and orgasm leave her lost in a state of stupefying exhaustion.
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Trailings is a compilation of slices, brief views as though through a window. The focus is bondage. The medium is flesh. The first is bound in a hogtie, still clothed in jeans, sneakers and tight top. The ankles keep tension on a rope that is wound about her neck. She struggles, growing pale as time passes. A pulley is lowered. The rope that attaches her ankles to her neck is raised, creating a curved bow to her body and a faint blue about her eyes and mouth.
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The Live Feed begins with 731 in containment, a metal box that is fairly roomy by Insex standards. She can sit up and fully straighten her legs. The front opening of the box is covered with a metal grate. 731 pees into a metal pan, the hiss of her urine patters against metal.
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Smoldering like a bitch in heat, az makes cyd an offer – herself. So when az arrives at the farm, ScotT hands her a letter from cyd. It sets the conditions for her submission. Following instructions, az strips, locks a collar about her neck, assumes the ordered position, and waits.
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Her nose itched. Her hair, tangled and matted from how she fought so hard, had fallen across her face. The shackles, heavy and small for her wrists, bruised and pinched her skin each time the lorry hit another pothole. On purpose, she thought. The goddamn driver was getting off listening to them all, some crying, others senseless. Just screaming.
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Dairy available here.
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