Creep Blow
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leep is fitful and only possible after the weariness of stable shifting around and adjusting the stones that are my bed. It senses like my bod has been covered in blows - the rocks are damaging me. Its getting colder. The sun is lower; It beams thru a window and illuminates the details of what hovers above me. I am one of those web bound carcasses. As it darkens, the chirps and squelches embark -- shadowy flutters of darting fantoms swirl above me. They seem to be attracted by my presence -- constantly diving at me and bombing me with their droppings. The odor gets larger fouler by the day; my rest room is my bed. In the beginning he would come and stand over me; staring, pissing, toying with himself. Today, when he brought me the slop, he was wearing a gas mask. The everyday chores of the lands are much more interesting as I permit my mind to wander 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 well-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 knob sucking will have a classier feel. At the tail, a machine will moderate and erect her cooch 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 belly -- I know this drill, so I put my palms behind my back immediately. (Reaching thru the grate he locks the fetters together.) He slips the bag on my head, convulses the chain taut and locks it. I hear the silenced sound of the grate scratching on the concrete. He convulses me out of the crevasse by my neck. The concrete scraps my flesh as I fight to build up my footing. This is the worst -- he thrusts me forth by that pole. It is a stifling fright -- I cannot see where I am stepping. He seems to sensation in letting me journey or briskly ambling me into obstacles. I’m now on all 4s locked at the wrist and ankles. It must be a table or platform of some kind. He pulls the spandex hood off my head -- the goal of this position is all of a sudden clear. A bucket of soapy water and a hose pipe are lying on the floor. Im sure he will make what is to come as awful as possible. I can’t help but breathe with excellent ease as this vile stench is about to be washed from me.
leep is fitful and only possible after the weariness of stable shifting around and adjusting the stones that are my bed. It senses like my bod has been covered in blows - the rocks are damaging me. Its getting colder. The sun is lower; It beams thru a window and illuminates the details of what hovers above me. I am one of those web bound carcasses. As it darkens, the chirps and squelches embark -- shadowy flutters of darting fantoms swirl above me. They seem to be attracted by my presence -- constantly diving at me and bombing me with their droppings. The odor gets larger fouler by the day; my rest room is my bed. In the beginning he would come and stand over me; staring, pissing, toying with himself. Today, when he brought me the slop, he was wearing a gas mask. The everyday chores of the lands are much more interesting as I permit my mind to wander 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 well-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 knob sucking will have a classier feel. At the tail, a machine will moderate and erect her cooch 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 belly -- I know this drill, so I put my palms behind my back immediately. (Reaching thru the grate he locks the fetters together.) He slips the bag on my head, convulses the chain taut and locks it. I hear the silenced sound of the grate scratching on the concrete. He convulses me out of the crevasse by my neck. The concrete scraps my flesh as I fight to build up my footing. This is the worst -- he thrusts me forth by that pole. It is a stifling fright -- I cannot see where I am stepping. He seems to sensation in letting me journey or briskly ambling me into obstacles. I’m now on all 4s locked at the wrist and ankles. It must be a table or platform of some kind. He pulls the spandex hood off my head -- the goal of this position is all of a sudden clear. A bucket of soapy water and a hose pipe are lying on the floor. Im sure he will make what is to come as awful as possible. I can’t help but breathe with excellent ease as this vile stench is about to be washed from me.
Added: 2017-01-24 • Views: 3 • Duration: 50:55
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