InfernalRestraints - Mystic Molly part 2
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Clad in a conservative knee length skirt, matching top, and sensible high stilettos I awaited my fate, ball-gagged and cuffed, while talking myself into the adequate mood needed. Only at times was I aware of the maneuverability around me instead I was trying to control the slobber that was forming around the rigidly cinched rope dousing the mattress and smearing my newly made up face. I was prepping mentally for the corporal intensity that was going to be demanded of me. The count down. I was dazed by uncertainty and nervousness. When the clock struck Ten I melted at PD's initial touch. The highly first pleasure of his arm was gentle and gentle then in the matter of seconds I was gagging and choking! Fighting with the cut off air I managed to glance directly into the lens of the camera reminding myself that people the world over were about to watch strenuous intensity exchange and I was the object of torture! Cold trib blades cutting off my cautiously chosen apparel left me Perceiving defenseless and longing to be . The one leg semi suspension opened my puss for the world to see. I could not shy away by trying to shut my gams since the restrain bondage was so strict. A weakness of mine is dealing with any sort of agony inflicted on or even near my vulva but I suffered the whipping, surprising myself, but not sans whimpering, of course. I have a wish of being objectified and when PD said "Let's get some detail on this cunt" I knew I was right where I yearned to be. The bishop instrument was terrifying. punctured by an electric monster it was all up to my balance or else a horrible shock would jolt thru my body. It was much too strenuous for me... I became so parched from the noisy wails I furiously extracted I concluded up praying PD for water which he just slobber it in my face. How abjecting I could not take the suspense when he decided to control the shocks. He was taking me over the edge. The sole torment instrument I was locked into was amazing. PD Strapped each toe individually... which is yet another one of my kinks. I have never accomplished flames on my feet before and that funked me fairly a bit. If I have never attempted something I am uncertain to do it- only because I do not know what to expect. The flagellating on my armpits was another pleasure I have never felt. It was highly excruciating but I still pridefully wear the marks. I had absolutely no control. I could not stir my feet at all. I was downright vulnerable. I was on an emotional rollercoaster. One moment screaming as noisy as my vocal ropes allowed. The next howling mildly to myself. Then sneering from my heart. I left that night with actual whip marks on my feet which I never thought was possible considering how rough the flesh is. Strapped to the chair. gagging for my right to breathe. Perceiving desperation as he managed the tube of sugary-sweet oxygen. Having a line crossed by the tape being pushed up my nostrils. Every one of these elements helped in my reaching orgasm... 3 in a row no less. I left that night flying high as a kite. Incapable to sleep, throwing and turning while dreaming of bastinado, Mr. Pogo, Strapped toes, and breath control. Moist dream after Moist dream. PD gave me an extraordinaire gift. One that I will never forget.
Clad in a conservative knee length skirt, matching top, and sensible high stilettos I awaited my fate, ball-gagged and cuffed, while talking myself into the adequate mood needed. Only at times was I aware of the maneuverability around me instead I was trying to control the slobber that was forming around the rigidly cinched rope dousing the mattress and smearing my newly made up face. I was prepping mentally for the corporal intensity that was going to be demanded of me. The count down. I was dazed by uncertainty and nervousness. When the clock struck Ten I melted at PD's initial touch. The highly first pleasure of his arm was gentle and gentle then in the matter of seconds I was gagging and choking! Fighting with the cut off air I managed to glance directly into the lens of the camera reminding myself that people the world over were about to watch strenuous intensity exchange and I was the object of torture! Cold trib blades cutting off my cautiously chosen apparel left me Perceiving defenseless and longing to be . The one leg semi suspension opened my puss for the world to see. I could not shy away by trying to shut my gams since the restrain bondage was so strict. A weakness of mine is dealing with any sort of agony inflicted on or even near my vulva but I suffered the whipping, surprising myself, but not sans whimpering, of course. I have a wish of being objectified and when PD said "Let's get some detail on this cunt" I knew I was right where I yearned to be. The bishop instrument was terrifying. punctured by an electric monster it was all up to my balance or else a horrible shock would jolt thru my body. It was much too strenuous for me... I became so parched from the noisy wails I furiously extracted I concluded up praying PD for water which he just slobber it in my face. How abjecting I could not take the suspense when he decided to control the shocks. He was taking me over the edge. The sole torment instrument I was locked into was amazing. PD Strapped each toe individually... which is yet another one of my kinks. I have never accomplished flames on my feet before and that funked me fairly a bit. If I have never attempted something I am uncertain to do it- only because I do not know what to expect. The flagellating on my armpits was another pleasure I have never felt. It was highly excruciating but I still pridefully wear the marks. I had absolutely no control. I could not stir my feet at all. I was downright vulnerable. I was on an emotional rollercoaster. One moment screaming as noisy as my vocal ropes allowed. The next howling mildly to myself. Then sneering from my heart. I left that night with actual whip marks on my feet which I never thought was possible considering how rough the flesh is. Strapped to the chair. gagging for my right to breathe. Perceiving desperation as he managed the tube of sugary-sweet oxygen. Having a line crossed by the tape being pushed up my nostrils. Every one of these elements helped in my reaching orgasm... 3 in a row no less. I left that night flying high as a kite. Incapable to sleep, throwing and turning while dreaming of bastinado, Mr. Pogo, Strapped toes, and breath control. Moist dream after Moist dream. PD gave me an extraordinaire gift. One that I will never forget.
Added: 2022-08-03 • Views: 27 • Duration: 38:31
Categories: BDSM • Studio: InfernalRestraints
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