IR - Apr 19, 2017 - Sierra Cirque

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Trips to the county fair are always resourceful. The brutes are magnificent and there is that undertone of care and enjoy they receive. The instruments of husbandry are notably interesting and one contraption has always fired my imagination: the grooming table. It is with such gusto and reflection I stand over her now, liking a supreme Camel smoke. She is most jaw-dropping with a dark-hued latex fetish mask stretched over her head. It is a lovely contrast from that painted face mounted in the wall several days back. I inserted a duo rubber tubes up her nose fuck-holes 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 carefully suspend my weight from that damnable butt hook he seems to enjoy so much. I’m sweating from this exertion. I feel the sweat squelching 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 gusto when he pulled it over my head, is sore 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 observe 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 oppressive domination 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. All of a sudden an acrid stench assaults my nose when I eventually inhale. That banger is gargling smoke at me. I can’t avert my head as it is locked at the neck. With every deepthroat I receive another dose. I cannot escape it; I feel dizzy -- my assets tingles and trembles.