Creep Play

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Trips to the county honest are always resourceful. The brutes are marvelous and there is that undertone of care and enjoy they receive. The contraptions of husbandry are peculiarly interesting and one tool has always fired my imagination: the grooming table. It is with such sensation and reflection I stand over her now, luving a superb Camel smoke. She is most sexy with a ebony spandex bondage mask spread over her head. It is a uber-cute contrast from that painted face mounted in the wall several days back. I inserted a duo rubber tubes up her nose slots to assure 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 me!!! The only ease is to cautiously hang my weight from that damnable bum hook he seems to enjoy so much. I’m sweating from this exertion. I feel the sweat squishing around my chin and mouth. The tubes inserted 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 sensation when he pulled it over my head, is aching now. The wickedest tickling and pricking assaults my skin; I imagine it must be flies or mosquitos feasting. I hear the door slam. Tho I cannot see 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. Suddenly 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 deep-throat I receive another dose. I cannot escape it; I feel dizzy -- my figure tingles and trembles.