Rosy abased rag

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I woke up sore and aching. My entire bod was a conductor for pain. I reflected on the events of last night. It had started out as joy actually. My college lady clothes put me in the mood for mischief, and I shuffled around, contorting my bod and attempting to get out of PD's ropes. PD stood in the corner, making fun at my foolhardy tries and I grew ever more determined to work my way out. Every success was countered by PD with an adjustment, a bigger knot, a string around my neck pulled relentlessly higher. Still I kept attempting at the ropes, prodding and working at the knots, sniggering all the way. PD ultimately made me sit on my knees and pulled the string taut. Now I had to fight to deal with the pressure on my knees, which were swiftly becoming sore. I hadn't realized how much force I had expended in attempting to get out of PD's ropes earlier, I was getting truly exhausted truly fast. I attempted to sit back on my soles to unwind my knees, this pose put a pile of stress on my thighs, and tightened the string on my neck further,but I restricted on. PD pulled my boots and socks off and kittled them, porked them and pinned them, laughter revved to screams. Soon,he eased the string on my neck, only to bind it to my foot! He pulled me up and I felt a terrible stress on my ankle, the pressure was unbearable. I had seen him do this slew of times, and had never expert it myself. I was terrified. Shortly my tyranny deepened, I started to sense as if the thongs of leather wrapped around my sole were slipping, and imagined myself plummeting to the ground head first. These were irrational fears, but I could not wiggle them, I moaned to be let down.