IR - Jul 21, 2017 - Sierra Cirque

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"The horror and the grace", she knows that line all too well. Poetically, it describes her predicament bondage perfectly. Her inability to recall the lines, under the stressors that Creep pleasures in applying, will result in much suffering. The electric prod bound into her pussy is a case in point. Creep clothed her for the occasion with leather mittens pulled up inbetween her shoulder blades and locked to the gasp band spreading her neck. Of course, she is adorned in the unpreventable pantyhose. He likes spreading them, like another skin, over her lower extremities. A taut corset boundaries her sighing and the stocking accentuate her long legs. She leans over a grubby kitchen table, wobbling in a pair of ebony high heels, reading from his iPad. She recites Percy Shelly’s “Medusa”. Deportment is strict. She must recite the lines while gazing at him. When she falters he presses the buttons on the remote sending a pulse of Faraday’s juice thru her nethers to induce contractions. She must commit this poem to memory for he has promised her a session with the lash -- a stroke for every faulted line. Creep is living in a romantic horror. He is beguiled by the mercy that is hidden in the temper of this whore. The sexual substance of his schizoid world is to design ordeals that arouse despotism in her. This is such a grabbing sheer pleasure as he probes her struggle; her expressions of bearing in the memories he collects on his tablet. Yet, his tending and obsession to this seeming beg -- has convoluted his lust. Fixated upon her, his stare is becoming a mirror of himself.