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The iron is cold and excruciating against my flesh. It delves into my neck, wrists, and ankles like nude beefsticks grinding against each other at the joint. It becomes more unpleasant with every adjustment I attempt to make. I must make myself become familiar to this iron structure, to feel as tho' it is an extension of my skeletal structure, a part of me. Every delectation is an delightful combination of enjoyment and pain. I feel his eyes seeing me, his smirk, his enjoyment in my discomfort and pain. I find that I am revved on by this in spite of myself. He knows where every gentle part of my bod is and he makes sure to exploit that knowledge. I have no choice but to give in, a victim to sensations. Afterward on, I am entirely motionless with all my weight buttressed by a pub between my legs. With my head and palms severely strapped back I find it difficult to catch my breath and before lengthy I am rasping and gagging for air. He lets my head up, but at the price of the singletail’s licks. All I can think about is how painfully I want him to hit me harder. This stance is so excruciating that the only thing capable of delivering relief is more pain. It takes all my concentration just to withstand it. I am so dispelled that I leave behind to thank him when he provides me with something to stand on to displace the weight. He calls me ungrateful I am instantly consumed by so much guilt that I want to cry. I want to make it up to him and just suffer it, but the anguish is too great. My inner conflict is nearly worse than the actual position. I want to leave behind this transient anguish and to just tolerate my situation and sate him, but I can’t let go of the feeling and the wish to physically end it. It is such a turn on to have my mind and bod busy at the same time in this way. It proves my lack of manage and that is something I like highly much. Eventually I cannot take any more. I have to ask to stand on the boxes again. This time I will not leave behind my manners. My prize is relief and a wire of screaming orgasms, leaving my chest heaving with gratitude. I thank him once aloud because I am too tired to repeat it, albeit it is all that rings in my ears.
The iron is cold and excruciating against my flesh. It delves into my neck, wrists, and ankles like nude beefsticks grinding against each other at the joint. It becomes more unpleasant with every adjustment I attempt to make. I must make myself become familiar to this iron structure, to feel as tho' it is an extension of my skeletal structure, a part of me. Every delectation is an delightful combination of enjoyment and pain. I feel his eyes seeing me, his smirk, his enjoyment in my discomfort and pain. I find that I am revved on by this in spite of myself. He knows where every gentle part of my bod is and he makes sure to exploit that knowledge. I have no choice but to give in, a victim to sensations. Afterward on, I am entirely motionless with all my weight buttressed by a pub between my legs. With my head and palms severely strapped back I find it difficult to catch my breath and before lengthy I am rasping and gagging for air. He lets my head up, but at the price of the singletail’s licks. All I can think about is how painfully I want him to hit me harder. This stance is so excruciating that the only thing capable of delivering relief is more pain. It takes all my concentration just to withstand it. I am so dispelled that I leave behind to thank him when he provides me with something to stand on to displace the weight. He calls me ungrateful I am instantly consumed by so much guilt that I want to cry. I want to make it up to him and just suffer it, but the anguish is too great. My inner conflict is nearly worse than the actual position. I want to leave behind this transient anguish and to just tolerate my situation and sate him, but I can’t let go of the feeling and the wish to physically end it. It is such a turn on to have my mind and bod busy at the same time in this way. It proves my lack of manage and that is something I like highly much. Eventually I cannot take any more. I have to ask to stand on the boxes again. This time I will not leave behind my manners. My prize is relief and a wire of screaming orgasms, leaving my chest heaving with gratitude. I thank him once aloud because I am too tired to repeat it, albeit it is all that rings in my ears.
Added: 2025-06-16 • Views: 0 • Duration: 48:09
Categories: BDSM • Models: Sarah Jane Ceylon
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