331 is pushed to the limit in her first live feed. Strapped into a metal chair and straitjacket, she stews in her helplessness. A leather hood is pulled over her head, leaving mouth exposed for a pump gag and tube to be inserted. Water drips down at a constant rate, forcing 331 to drink or drown.
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Bj is hogtied on the floor, struggling in a leather hood. Hands are taped, breathing is heavy from her efforts to get loose. Pd lifts her on a box and inspects the goods. When the hood comes off, we see her mouth is taped. Her nice long hair is tied to her toes. Her perky pierced tits are revealed from her summer dress. As soon as her ass is inspected a cane comes out and tests her responses. The tape on her mouth is replaced by an inflatable gag. Now it’s time to see how strong her hair is. Pd ties it to a pulley and lifts her straight up in the air! Her legs spread by a bamboo pole, she is dangling in midair while the cane explores her body.
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He spied her, hot and young and rash, And trussed her, goose-like, hands and feet. He taped her mouth and ripped her dress To probe and carve her like a meat. Driven like half-maddened beasts, The bulk of men act out of haste. But slowly binding her, he thinks That Girl is an acquired taste.
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There’s certain things. I like certain things. I’m not supposed to, but I do. I like to pretend I’m a little girl. And there’s other things I like to pretend too, about men and about them wanting me in a way that’s wrong. Everybody says it’s wrong. But I like it. My boyfriend knows the way I like to play at being a little girl. So he bought me a T-shirt that says kittie on it. And he watches me from his car, waiting until I’m done with class. Sometimes he follows me home. I see him other times too. Watching.
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A dark beauty undresses herself in an amazying display of flexibility. Her clothes come off as she magicly unzips her pants. He tickles her foot as she sits spread eagle on the floor the while a sturdy metal spreader bar is wedged between her legs. Her tits dangle in front of her and she thinks “wow, piece of cake” until a yellow cloth is stuffed in her full mouth. The gag is secured with tape around her head and straight black hair. He fondles her jiggly tits. Mr pogo gets a turn at her juicy wet pussy, fucking her unforgivingly.
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I sometimes like to flaunt my girl-ness. My pleated skirt bounces as I walk, swinging and swaying and hinting just enough at what lays beneath. I flaunt my strength, flexing my girl-muscles, the control I imagine I have on the people that I walk past. I approach the building that is now so familiar to me, waiting for the elevator that always takes forever to arrive– I never saw what hit me.
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John never did get it. The sexual stuff, I mean. Like how I wanted him to tie me up. How I wanted to be helpless. I wanted him to use me, use my “holes”, all of them, for his gratification. Put anything you want inside of me, I said to him. Treat me dirty. When we first got married, he tried a few things with me. But then he got disgusted, saying I was crazy. A pervert. John has no idea what I’m doing this weekend. He’s gone for three days on a business trip. I’m on the train to New York.
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The choice was hers. He asked flat out: would she accept his ties, his tortures? And she did, signed herself away. Just one weekend – how bad could it be? He places a collar on her neck, orders her to undress. Hands cuffed, she struggles to wriggle out of her jeans. Kneeling, she presents her smooth bare ass. He removes her shirt and binds her arms. Willingly, she submits as the ropes pinch harshly into her skin.
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Like a diapered newborn in her highchair, 412 fidgets restlessly, anxious to come out and play. Metal restraining her absolutely around the neck and wrists, she fixes her makeup chained to the station. Metal boots tightened at the bottom crush her finely arched feet, causing her large eyes to glaze with tears. With a rubber brake laced over neck and mouth, she is forced to gulp water that drips into her mouth through a long tube.
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I woke up sore and aching. My whole body was a conductor for pain. I reflected on the events of last night. It had started out as fun actually. My school girl clothes put me in the mood for mischief, and I shuffled around, contorting my body and trying to get out of PD’s ropes. PD stood in the corner, laughing at my foolhardy attempts and I grew ever more determined to work my way out. Every success was countered by PD with an adjustment, a larger knot, a rope around my neck pulled continuously higher. Still I kept trying at the ropes, pushing and working at the knots, giggling all the way. PD finally made me sit on my knees and pulled the rope taut. Now I had to struggle to deal with the pressure on my knees, which were quickly becoming sore. I hadn’t realized how much energy I had expended in trying to get out of PD’s ropes earlier, I was getting really tired really fast. I tried to sit back on my feet to relieve my knees, this position put a lot of strain on my thighs, and tightened the rope on my neck further,but I held on…
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Dairy available here.
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