Sneak Suck (Sierra Cirque)
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Sleep is fitful and only possible after the exhaustion of steady shifting around and adjusting the stones that are my bed. It feels like my bod has been facialed in blows - the rocks are bruising me. Its getting colder. The sun is lower; It slats thru a window and illuminates the details of what hovers above me. I am one of those web strapped carcasses. As it darkens, the chirps and squelches start -- shadowy flutters of darting fantoms swirl above me. They seem to be attracted by my presence -- frequently diving at me and bombing me with their droppings. The scent gets bigger fouler by the day; my wc is my bed. In the starting he would come and stand over me; staring, pissing, frolicking with himself. Today, when he brought me the slop, he was dressed in a gas mask. The everyday errands of the lands are much more interesting as I permit my mind to ramble to that creature entombed in my barn. It is less distracting of late because of the stink, and I now must face the task of cleaning it. I have prepped a platform based on the designs I have seen at the county fair; A grooming table that holds her wrist and ankles so she is on all fours. For days I have been content with just knowing that it was stored there. To compensate and motivate the chore of cleaning it, I want to take it to another level. I am going to bifurcate her -- 2 for one. At the head I will have her do makeup. The meatpipe gargling will have a classier feel. At the tail, a machine will alleviate and swell her cunt for my cock. Something is up; he’s standing over me holding the ebony head bag and that awful pillar that locks around my neck. He orders me to role over onto my abdomen -- I know this drill, so I put my forearms behind my back immediately. (Reaching thru the grate he locks the fetters together.) He slips the bag on my head, convulses the chain cock-squeezing and locks it. I hear the silenced sound of the grate on the concrete. He convulses me out of the fuck-hole by my neck. The concrete scraps my skin as I fight to build up my footing. This is the worst -- he shovels me forth by that pole. It is a stifling funk -- I cannot witness where I am stepping. He seems to elation in letting me tour or briskly ambling me into obstacles. I’m now on all fours locked at the wrist and ankles. It must be a table or platform of some kind. He pulls the rubber hood off my head -- the aim of this pose is abruptly clear. A bucket of soapy water and a hosepipe are lounging on the floor. Im sure he will make what is to come as crappy as possible. I can’t help but breathe with excellent relief as this vile stench is about to be washed from me.
Sleep is fitful and only possible after the exhaustion of steady shifting around and adjusting the stones that are my bed. It feels like my bod has been facialed in blows - the rocks are bruising me. Its getting colder. The sun is lower; It slats thru a window and illuminates the details of what hovers above me. I am one of those web strapped carcasses. As it darkens, the chirps and squelches start -- shadowy flutters of darting fantoms swirl above me. They seem to be attracted by my presence -- frequently diving at me and bombing me with their droppings. The scent gets bigger fouler by the day; my wc is my bed. In the starting he would come and stand over me; staring, pissing, frolicking with himself. Today, when he brought me the slop, he was dressed in a gas mask. The everyday errands of the lands are much more interesting as I permit my mind to ramble to that creature entombed in my barn. It is less distracting of late because of the stink, and I now must face the task of cleaning it. I have prepped a platform based on the designs I have seen at the county fair; A grooming table that holds her wrist and ankles so she is on all fours. For days I have been content with just knowing that it was stored there. To compensate and motivate the chore of cleaning it, I want to take it to another level. I am going to bifurcate her -- 2 for one. At the head I will have her do makeup. The meatpipe gargling will have a classier feel. At the tail, a machine will alleviate and swell her cunt for my cock. Something is up; he’s standing over me holding the ebony head bag and that awful pillar that locks around my neck. He orders me to role over onto my abdomen -- I know this drill, so I put my forearms behind my back immediately. (Reaching thru the grate he locks the fetters together.) He slips the bag on my head, convulses the chain cock-squeezing and locks it. I hear the silenced sound of the grate on the concrete. He convulses me out of the fuck-hole by my neck. The concrete scraps my skin as I fight to build up my footing. This is the worst -- he shovels me forth by that pole. It is a stifling funk -- I cannot witness where I am stepping. He seems to elation in letting me tour or briskly ambling me into obstacles. I’m now on all fours locked at the wrist and ankles. It must be a table or platform of some kind. He pulls the rubber hood off my head -- the aim of this pose is abruptly clear. A bucket of soapy water and a hosepipe are lounging on the floor. Im sure he will make what is to come as crappy as possible. I can’t help but breathe with excellent relief as this vile stench is about to be washed from me.
Added: 2022-06-12 • Views: 42 • Duration: 50:55
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