Mystic Molly part 2
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Clad in a conservative knee length skirt, matching top, and sensible high high-heeled shoes I awaited my fate, ball-gagged and cuffed, while conversing myself into the suitable mood needed. Only at times was I aware of the mobility around me instead I was attempting to manage the drool that was forming around the firmly cinched cord dousing the mattress and smearing my freshly made up face. I was preparing mentally for the corporal strength that was going to be demanded of me. The count down. I was perplexed by uncertainty and nervousness. When the clock impressed Ten I dissolved at PD's initial touch. The first-ever sensation of his forearm was sensitive and sensitive 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 witness intense strength swap and I was the object of torture! Cold scissor blades cutting off my cautiously chosen apparel left me perceiving defenseless and craving to be . The one gam semi suspension opened my pussy for the world to see. I could not bashful away by attempting to shut my gams since the restrain bondage was so strict. A weakness of mine is dealing with any sort of ache inflicted on or even near my cooch but I suffered the whipping, surprising myself, but not sans whimpering, of course. I have a fantasy 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 implement was terrifying. punctured by an electrified monster it was all up to my balance or else a shitty shock would jolt thru my body. It was much too intense for me... I became so parched from the noisy moans I madly let out I concluded up pleading PD for water which he just drool it in my face. How humiliating- *yum*. I could not take the suspense when he determined to manage the shocks. He was taking me over the edge. The foot torment tool I was locked into was amazing. PD trussed each toe individually... which is yet another one of my kinks. I have never accomplished flames on my soles before and that panicked me fairly a bit. If I have never attempted something I am unassured to do it- only because I do not know what to expect. The caning on my armpits was another sensation I have never felt. It was highly painful but I still proudly wear the marks. I had absolutely no control. I could not move my soles at all. I was completely vulnerable. I was on an emotional rollercoaster. One moment groaning as noisy as my vocal ropes allowed. The next weeping mildly to myself. Then smirking from my heart. I left that night with actual whip marks on my soles which I never thought was possible considering how harsh the flesh is. trussed to the chair. gagging for my right to breathe. perceiving desperation as he managed the tube of fleshy oxygen. Having a line crossed by the gauze 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, trussed toes, and breath control. moist desire 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 high-heeled shoes I awaited my fate, ball-gagged and cuffed, while conversing myself into the suitable mood needed. Only at times was I aware of the mobility around me instead I was attempting to manage the drool that was forming around the firmly cinched cord dousing the mattress and smearing my freshly made up face. I was preparing mentally for the corporal strength that was going to be demanded of me. The count down. I was perplexed by uncertainty and nervousness. When the clock impressed Ten I dissolved at PD's initial touch. The first-ever sensation of his forearm was sensitive and sensitive 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 witness intense strength swap and I was the object of torture! Cold scissor blades cutting off my cautiously chosen apparel left me perceiving defenseless and craving to be . The one gam semi suspension opened my pussy for the world to see. I could not bashful away by attempting to shut my gams since the restrain bondage was so strict. A weakness of mine is dealing with any sort of ache inflicted on or even near my cooch but I suffered the whipping, surprising myself, but not sans whimpering, of course. I have a fantasy 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 implement was terrifying. punctured by an electrified monster it was all up to my balance or else a shitty shock would jolt thru my body. It was much too intense for me... I became so parched from the noisy moans I madly let out I concluded up pleading PD for water which he just drool it in my face. How humiliating- *yum*. I could not take the suspense when he determined to manage the shocks. He was taking me over the edge. The foot torment tool I was locked into was amazing. PD trussed each toe individually... which is yet another one of my kinks. I have never accomplished flames on my soles before and that panicked me fairly a bit. If I have never attempted something I am unassured to do it- only because I do not know what to expect. The caning on my armpits was another sensation I have never felt. It was highly painful but I still proudly wear the marks. I had absolutely no control. I could not move my soles at all. I was completely vulnerable. I was on an emotional rollercoaster. One moment groaning as noisy as my vocal ropes allowed. The next weeping mildly to myself. Then smirking from my heart. I left that night with actual whip marks on my soles which I never thought was possible considering how harsh the flesh is. trussed to the chair. gagging for my right to breathe. perceiving desperation as he managed the tube of fleshy oxygen. Having a line crossed by the gauze 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, trussed toes, and breath control. moist desire after moist dream. PD gave me an extraordinaire gift. One that I will never forget.
Added: 2023-10-06 • Views: 65 • Duration: 38:31
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