Creep Play

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Trips to the county fair are always resourceful. The brutes are stunning and there is that undertone of care and enjoy they receive. The contraptions of husbandry are peculiarly interesting and one implement has always fired my imagination: the grooming table. It is with such delight and reflection I stand over her now, luving a good Camel smoke. She is most uber-sexy with a dark-hued spandex smother rubber hood stretched over her head. It is a uber-cute contrast from that painted face mounted in the wall several days back. I slammed a duo rubber tubes up her nose crevices to guarantee there is no mishap with breathing. This was a safety measure as she has been locked on all 4s stewing since sunrise. My knees are killing me!!! The only ease is to cautiously hang my weight from that damnable culo hook he seems to enjoy so much. I’m sweating from this exertion. I feel the sweat squelching around my chin and mouth. The tubes plunged up my nose are maddening and my breath is labored because of them. I am absorbed in an oppressive, goopy blackness. The pressure, which was a mere gusto when he pulled it over my head, is sore now. The wickedest kittling and pricking assaults my skin; I imagine it must be flies or mosquitos feasting. I hear the door slam. However 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 strangling blackness. Do I feel 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 finally inhale. That fucker is sucking smoke at me. I can’t avert my head as it is locked at the neck. With every inhale I receive another dose. I cannot escape it; I feel dizzy -- my body tingles and trembles.