I get restless sometimes, wouldn’t you? Knowing she’s out there. Cold, alone, scared… I can almost hear the muffled whines, pathetic as she struggles, fresh hay irritating soft pink girl flesh.
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I get restless sometimes, wouldn’t you? Knowing she’s out there. Cold, alone, scared… I can almost hear the muffled whines, pathetic as she struggles, fresh hay irritating soft pink girl flesh.
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Thin, tall, and lithe, sage interrupts bondage with PD to answer her cell phone. Miffed, he takes care of the situation by locking her in stocks and slipping her phone up her cunt. It’s the beginning of sage’s crash course in electricity. To show her appreciation (and avoid being shocked), she gives him a lap dance. Her ass is wired, of course, so PD uses the stim to make sure he has an extra good time.
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Seven gets wet in her second live feed with the help of new resident spacegirl and PD’s latest evil invention. Seductively attired in hot pants, a tank top and heels, she struts around the studio like a seasoned streetwalker.
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Feels weird to wear this uniform again. Like I should be back in high school smoking cigarettes at the gas station before practice and teasing the boys by “accidentally” forgetting to cross my legs. In a way, this show is like tryouts.
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411’s 48-hour live feed from May 17-19 in 2002 is titled The Chair because the centerpiece (secondary to 411, of course) is a metal chair upon which she experiences torture and pleasure for the next 48 hours.
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411 survived many trials and tribulations over a 48 hour period, all in a specially-made chair. Day Number Two was the longest of the three-day ordeal. She shows tons of stamina, her remarkable easy-going nature weathering it all.
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Sitting with bound arms to legs, a brown haired cunt moans. Her face is covered by a black leather hood. A rubber tube comes crashing into her. Tickling and fondling her tits, the hood comes off. Without wasting any time her eyes are covered. pd’s intent is to humiliate this bitch to no avail.
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101’s 48-hour feed was a harrowing three-day crucible in which 101’s spirit was severely tested through excessive bondage, degradation, and the infliction of pain.
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InsexArchives>In a room full of crew members, other Insex models and viewers anxiously awaiting my show, I felt completely alone atop the barrel as PD tied the second and final knot of the cloth around my face. When PD took away my sight the room went silent; there was no show. I was in a dark room alone, insignificant and forgotten.
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Long, lean 1201 spends an evening in the Insex barn and returns for a second dose of torture the following afternoon. Her ordeal begins in a cold, hay-strewn cow stall. Chained to a wall with a metal helmet weighing heavily on her head, she changes positions frequently, finding that the bondage leaves little room for comfort.
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