Mystic Molly sc 2

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Clad in a conservative knee length skirt, matching top, and sensible high high-heeled slippers I awaited my fate, gagged and cuffed, while conversing myself into the adequate mood needed. Only occasionally was I aware of the motion around me instead I was trying to manage the spit that was forming around the firmly cinched rope soaking the mattress and smearing my newly made up face. I was prepping 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 amazed Ten I dissolved at PD's initial touch. The first-ever pleasure of his palm was fragile and gentle then in the matter of seconds I was Choking and choking! Fighting with the cut off air I managed to sight directly into the lens of the camera reminding myself that people the world over were about to watch heavy power swap and I was the object of torture! Cold trib blades cutting off my cautiously chosen clothing left me perceiving helpless and longing to be . The one gam semi suspension opened my fuckbox 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 anguish inflicted on or even near my vagina but I suffered the whipping, surprising myself, but not sans whimpering, of course. I have a desire 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 crappy shock would jolt thru my body. It was much too heavy for me... I became so parched from the loud bellows I uncontrollably extracted I concluded up praying PD for water which he just spit it in my face. How humiliating- . I could not take the suspense when he decided to manage the shocks. He was taking me over the edge. The foot torment implement I was locked into was amazing. PD trussed each toe individually... which is yet another one of my kinks. I have never experienced flames on my soles 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 flogging on my underarms 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 soles at all. I was fully vulnerable. I was on an emotional rollercoaster. One moment moaning as loud as my vocal ropes allowed. The next weeping gently to myself. Then smirking from my heart. I left that night with actual cane marks on my soles which I never thought was possible considering how harsh the skin is. trussed to the chair. Choking for my right to breathe. perceiving desperation as he managed the tube of edible oxygen. Having a line crossed by the tape being shoveled 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, tossing and turning while dreaming of bastinado, Mr. Pogo, trussed toes, and breath control. Moist desire after Moist dream. PD gave me an astounding gift. One that I will never forget.