Creep Play

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Trips to the county honest are always resourceful. The brutes are spectacular and there is that undertone of care and love they receive. The tools of husbandry are especially interesting and one instrument has always fired my imagination: the grooming table. It is with such sheer pleasure and reflection I stand over her now, luving a great Camel smoke. She is most luxurious with a dark-hued latex rubber hood stretched over her head. It is a adorable contrast from that painted face mounted in the wall several days back. I inserted a duo rubber tubes up her nose fuckholes to assure there is no mishap with breathing. This was a safety measure as she has been locked on all fours stewing since sunrise. My knees are me!!! The only ease is to cautiously dangle my weight from that damnable bum hook he seems to love so much. I’m sweating from this exertion. I perceive the sweat squelching around my chin and mouth. The tubes wedged up my nose are maddening and my breath is labored because of them. I am absorbed in an oppressive, gooey blackness. The pressure, which was a mere sensation when he pulled it over my head, is aching now. The wickedest kittling and pricking assaults my skin; I imagine it must be flies or mosquitos feasting. I hear the door slam. Tho' I cannot watch or hear his movements, I am sure he is up to something. My mind swirls with imaginings of what he is about to do. My head screams, “Please do something!” The despotism of what my own thoughts conjure reverberate in this blackness. Do I perceive that he is close? I hold my breath to empty any sound in my head. All of a sudden an acrid stench assaults my nose when I ultimately inhale. That plower is fellating smoke at me. I can’t avert my head as it is locked at the neck. With every suck I receive another dose. I cannot escape it; I perceive dizzy -- my figure tingles and trembles.