Creep Suck
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leep is fitful and only possible after the weariness of sustained shifting around and adjusting the stones that are my bed. It perceives like my assets has been glazed in blows - the rocks are hurting me. Its getting colder. The sun is lower; It planks thru a window and illuminates the details of what hovers above me. I am one of those web roped carcasses. As it darkens, the chirps and squelches begin -- 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 odor gets taller fouler by the day; my wc is my bed. In the embarking 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 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 prepared 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 cocklet deep throating will have a classier feel. At the tail, a machine will alleviate and swell her vag for my cock. Something is up; he’s standing over me holding the ebony head bag and that gruesome pole that locks around my neck. He orders me to role over onto my tummy -- I know this drill, so I put my mitts behind my back immediately. (Reaching thru the grate he locks the fetters together.) He glides 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 pushes me forth by that pole. It is a stifling panic -- I cannot witness where I am stepping. He seems to pleasure in letting me trip 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 bondage mask off my head -- the purpose of this position is all of a sudden clear. A bucket of soapy water and a hose pipe are lounging on the floor. Im sure he will make what is to come as shitty as possible. I can’t help but breathe with supreme ease as this vile stench is about to be washed from me.
leep is fitful and only possible after the weariness of sustained shifting around and adjusting the stones that are my bed. It perceives like my assets has been glazed in blows - the rocks are hurting me. Its getting colder. The sun is lower; It planks thru a window and illuminates the details of what hovers above me. I am one of those web roped carcasses. As it darkens, the chirps and squelches begin -- 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 odor gets taller fouler by the day; my wc is my bed. In the embarking 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 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 prepared 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 cocklet deep throating will have a classier feel. At the tail, a machine will alleviate and swell her vag for my cock. Something is up; he’s standing over me holding the ebony head bag and that gruesome pole that locks around my neck. He orders me to role over onto my tummy -- I know this drill, so I put my mitts behind my back immediately. (Reaching thru the grate he locks the fetters together.) He glides 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 pushes me forth by that pole. It is a stifling panic -- I cannot witness where I am stepping. He seems to pleasure in letting me trip 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 bondage mask off my head -- the purpose of this position is all of a sudden clear. A bucket of soapy water and a hose pipe are lounging on the floor. Im sure he will make what is to come as shitty as possible. I can’t help but breathe with supreme ease as this vile stench is about to be washed from me.
Added: 2017-10-12 • Views: 10 • Duration: 50:55
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