Seven suffers, strangles, and spews on her first trip to Insex. All business in a conservative skirt and blouse, the blonde beauty reveals her interest in both sides of BDSM play and tells tales of her childhood exploits. After her interview, she begins to bind herself, fastening leather cuffs around her ankles and wrists.
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The sky is pitch black when I shoot up in bed. My body is covered in sweat but I am shivering and cold. The nightmare was so vivid, almost real. It comes back to me in flashes. Like in a storm, how the lightening reveals everything for a brief moment. And then all is dark again.
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Young, pliant, but green, the ever-popular S4 and 423 spend a few days in the cuntree learning hard lessons in slavery from the example of luxurious 912.
They are bound, coaxed, harnessed like horses, prodded, whipped, and made to suck pussy, but 912’s quiet acceptance is far beyond their abilities.
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When PD told me that we would be doing water torture for the pre-feed I wasn’t that concerned. I think I even joked about hoping that it would drive me mad. I never expected to feel what I did. I never expected to barely be able to make it through. I thought it would be easy.
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She’s nervous, sitting on a couch. She leafs through a magazine, looks around, fusses with her hair. In a moment of anxiety, she picks up the phone and dials a number. Her friend Donna answers the phone.
I think I’m in over my head, she says.
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211 visits Insex and receives the ultimate stress test, left to languish, not allowed to come, caned, fucked, hot wax, the onerous wall of bifurcation, and drowning. She goes from ultimate boredom to terror. She seems to prefer the terror. At least it holds her interest.
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Cherry red. Her blouse. A thick metal collar holds her neck motionless. The leather hood so conforms to her face that she looks to be a stylized being, not quite real you might think. Not quite.
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Extreme pain, over the top humiliation, and a milk enema start angelene’s weight loss program off with a spurt. Insex Fat Camp 1 is the first in a series of live feeds that will monitor angelene’s fat. cyd pulls out all the stops, determined to ‘whip’ poor angelene into shape.
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She dresses like a whore for him.
She is naked yet clothed in her femininity.
She hates what he does to her,
you can see the torture in her eyes.
He doesn’t ask for much from her,
just to suffer quietly in front of him.
She squirms to keep her sanity
and struggles with the ties of agony he has put upon her.
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A friend gave me his phone number weeks ago. “Call him. Just call him,” she said. I’d stopped dating. It wasn’t the guys. Well, maybe a little. “Look, I’m over ‘relationships’ for the moment. I just want to be by myself for awhile. That’s all.” My friend shrugged. “Call him,” she said again. I was the youngest of three girls. Growing up, I’d watched my sisters and their boy friends. Clumsy kisses in the barn. Hands groping, pushed away, more groping. I had dreams, murky pictures in my head. And I’d fumbled with myself some nights, unsatisfied, my fumbling increasing my longing. Like cocks were doing now.
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Dairy available here.
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