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Added: September 12, 2018 |
Category: Bondage
As the moments go by it becomes worse and worse. The way your ankles are bolted beside your wrists. Your tits are squeezed by metal. The collar. The gag. Everything hurts. Not a good deal. However sufficient. You weigh it out. You can take one minute. Possibly two. And only when you can’t stand another second, PD shows up. He lays a heap of paddles and canes at your feet. And you understand anything is far better than being locked in presses and this metal which rubs and squeezes. Anything. You can see that matters are going to receive a whole lot worse. However, you don’t care. Pain is better than that. You Will Need PD. And that’s precisely the way he wants it.He oils your feet, taking the opportunity to rub it between every toe. His signature is outstanding. Marvelous. He states, let me know when you want me to hit you. He makes you a part of your misery. And he pokes a skewer under your toenails. He heats the bottoms of the feet and lights a torch. Your helplessness is profound. It is only the start. Extended distress marked with bright points of ecstasy and pain quintessential distress. As time goes, what he does begin to look dreamlike. Your hands’s bent backwards, palm up splaying out your fingers. The room becomes fantastical as your fingers torment, caning the part of your own hands. However, you don’t need him to depart. You do not need to be alone.You’re standing, a 4X4 yoke straightened into your neck and wrists. A metallic pipe gag pushes on your tongue backwards and down, opening mouth. Your breath dries up your upper palette. You can not consume or wet mouth. Metal chastity belt. Ankle spreader. Everything is heavy. The weight messes with your head. It is bad. Really awful. You are nothing. Nothing but this burden. You’re not alone. And perhaps that is just what you needed all along. |
