InfernalRestraints - Turkey Shoot
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He devises them as turkeys.To him these ladies are nothing more than meat. He observes himself as a hunter, a stud who loves fresh meat. And so it begins. They are naked, his girls. There are 3 of them. He has them in his hunting cabin. Their arms are corded behind their backs, their arms taped. They are ball-gagged with tubing restricted in place with string ties. Several soles of chain run from neck to neck, so that they are tethered to one another. He sits. He tells them about a turkey shoot. As he talks, he assembles his gun. Their little sobs and whines escalate. Who could have known? One min you are just walking your mutt or nipping coffee in your home. And the next thing you know, you are naked. And he has a gun. And there is truly nothing else to do, is there? When he tells you to run. You run like hell. He hauls them outside and unchains them and embarks erupting pellets, frightening them up good. After all, he wants to be challenged. He’s looking for sport, just a little fun. They run thru the forest all in a flurry, screaming, squawking. Open season on girl. The blonde is the first-ever to drop. He takes the others down too, the brunette and the black-haired girl. The marks of paintball run in rivulets down their fragile flesh in crimson trails. It is calm in the woods. Their figures lie still, white, silent. They are side by side in the back of his truck, all on their stomachs, all in hogties, all gagged. They rock back and forth on corded breasts, juggling with the juggle of the truck. They make a flurry of appalled chirps. He stops the car and opens the back gate. To each pair of ankles, he affixes a rope. Then he moves the car forth so that they are dragged out of the back by the ankles. He lifts each of them up, their figures dangling upside down in the middle of the woods. He slaps asses. He plays with their orbs and nipples, tight from the cold. His rough frigs twist and knead, doing with them whatever he wants. Evening comes. A fire burns beside a pond. All 3 ladies are standing, corded stiffly together at the neck, hobbled this way, moaning, sniveling in the cold. They shuffle close to the fire. But soon it is too hot. They jostle back and forth, tit to breast, their flesh luminous in the dark. He arrives with a iron grill that he sets on 2 posts. It is in the form of a body. He tells them they have to determine who is going to be cooked tonight. It is for them to decide. They moan. They cry, moving backward, clustered together, the human cook basket waiting. The blonde is chosen. She is locked into the rungs of the frame, her gams spread, arms locked behind her back, and a iron club shove into her cunt. It keeps her highly still, so that the fire can do its work. She sighs rigid as the warmth grows, baking, her torso heaving. The other 2 ladies are given the task of making sure she’s roasted super-cute and even. Her flesh heads red. Satisfy hurry, she says, please, Satisfy hurry. And so they turn her so she can cook the other side and plead to be revved again. An apple is shoved into the blond’s mouth. She is quieter now. As tho' she is providing up, letting go. As tho' she can leave behind her body. She is basted and barbecued, her obese orbs wiped with sauce, running in rivulets down into the fire. Testicle tonic dribbles from her knees. The flush of her figure may remind him of the rosy internal shine of pussy. When the lips are opened up and wet, just before the plunge, and now the smell can occasionally be smoky.
He devises them as turkeys.To him these ladies are nothing more than meat. He observes himself as a hunter, a stud who loves fresh meat. And so it begins. They are naked, his girls. There are 3 of them. He has them in his hunting cabin. Their arms are corded behind their backs, their arms taped. They are ball-gagged with tubing restricted in place with string ties. Several soles of chain run from neck to neck, so that they are tethered to one another. He sits. He tells them about a turkey shoot. As he talks, he assembles his gun. Their little sobs and whines escalate. Who could have known? One min you are just walking your mutt or nipping coffee in your home. And the next thing you know, you are naked. And he has a gun. And there is truly nothing else to do, is there? When he tells you to run. You run like hell. He hauls them outside and unchains them and embarks erupting pellets, frightening them up good. After all, he wants to be challenged. He’s looking for sport, just a little fun. They run thru the forest all in a flurry, screaming, squawking. Open season on girl. The blonde is the first-ever to drop. He takes the others down too, the brunette and the black-haired girl. The marks of paintball run in rivulets down their fragile flesh in crimson trails. It is calm in the woods. Their figures lie still, white, silent. They are side by side in the back of his truck, all on their stomachs, all in hogties, all gagged. They rock back and forth on corded breasts, juggling with the juggle of the truck. They make a flurry of appalled chirps. He stops the car and opens the back gate. To each pair of ankles, he affixes a rope. Then he moves the car forth so that they are dragged out of the back by the ankles. He lifts each of them up, their figures dangling upside down in the middle of the woods. He slaps asses. He plays with their orbs and nipples, tight from the cold. His rough frigs twist and knead, doing with them whatever he wants. Evening comes. A fire burns beside a pond. All 3 ladies are standing, corded stiffly together at the neck, hobbled this way, moaning, sniveling in the cold. They shuffle close to the fire. But soon it is too hot. They jostle back and forth, tit to breast, their flesh luminous in the dark. He arrives with a iron grill that he sets on 2 posts. It is in the form of a body. He tells them they have to determine who is going to be cooked tonight. It is for them to decide. They moan. They cry, moving backward, clustered together, the human cook basket waiting. The blonde is chosen. She is locked into the rungs of the frame, her gams spread, arms locked behind her back, and a iron club shove into her cunt. It keeps her highly still, so that the fire can do its work. She sighs rigid as the warmth grows, baking, her torso heaving. The other 2 ladies are given the task of making sure she’s roasted super-cute and even. Her flesh heads red. Satisfy hurry, she says, please, Satisfy hurry. And so they turn her so she can cook the other side and plead to be revved again. An apple is shoved into the blond’s mouth. She is quieter now. As tho' she is providing up, letting go. As tho' she can leave behind her body. She is basted and barbecued, her obese orbs wiped with sauce, running in rivulets down into the fire. Testicle tonic dribbles from her knees. The flush of her figure may remind him of the rosy internal shine of pussy. When the lips are opened up and wet, just before the plunge, and now the smell can occasionally be smoky.
Added: 2022-10-18 • Views: 24 • Duration: 51:17
Categories: BDSM • Studio: InfernalRestraints
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