Sierra Cirque (Creep Suck)
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leep is fitful and only possible after the weariness of constant shifting around and adjusting the stones that are my bed. It senses like my body has been covered in blows - the rocks are hurting me. Its getting colder. The sun is lower; It slats thru a window and illuminates the details of what hovers above me. I am one of those web tied carcasses. As it darkens, the chirps and squishes commence -- shadowy flutters of darting fantoms swirl above me. They seem to be attracted by my presence -- often diving at me and bombing me with their droppings. The aroma gets taller fouler by the day; my toilet is my bed. In the commencing he would come and stand over me; staring, pissing, toying with himself. Today, when he brought me the slop, he was wearing a gas mask. The everyday chores of the lands are much more interesting as I permit my mind to roam to that creature entombed in my barn. It is less distracting of late because of the stink, and I now must face the task of cleaning it. I have prepped a platform based on the designs I have seen at the county fair; A grooming table that holds her wrist and ankles so she is on all fours. For days I have been content with just knowing that it was stored there. To compensate and motivate the chore of cleaning it, I want to take it to another level. I am going to bifurcate her -- 2 for one. At the head I will have her do makeup. The prick blowing will have a classier feel. At the tail, a machine will soothe and erect her cunt for my cock. Something is up; he’s standing over me holding the dark-hued head bag and that terrible pole that locks around my neck. He orders me to role over onto my tummy -- I know this drill, so I put my arms behind my back immediately. (Reaching thru the grate he locks the shackles together.) He slips the bag on my head, yanks the chain taut and locks it. I hear the muffled sound of the grate scratching on the concrete. He yanks me out of the fuck-hole by my neck. The concrete scraps my flesh as I fight to build up my footing. This is the worst -- he pushes me forth by that pole. It is a stifling fright -- I cannot see where I am stepping. He seems to delectation in letting me trip or briskly ambling me into obstacles. I’m now on all 4s locked at the wrist and ankles. It must be a table or platform of some kind. He pulls the spandex hood off my head -- the aim of this position is all of a sudden clear. A bucket of soapy water and a hosepipe are lounging on the floor. Im sure he will make what is to come as terrible as possible. I can’t help but breathe with superb ease as this vile stench is about to be washed from me.
leep is fitful and only possible after the weariness of constant shifting around and adjusting the stones that are my bed. It senses like my body has been covered in blows - the rocks are hurting me. Its getting colder. The sun is lower; It slats thru a window and illuminates the details of what hovers above me. I am one of those web tied carcasses. As it darkens, the chirps and squishes commence -- shadowy flutters of darting fantoms swirl above me. They seem to be attracted by my presence -- often diving at me and bombing me with their droppings. The aroma gets taller fouler by the day; my toilet is my bed. In the commencing he would come and stand over me; staring, pissing, toying with himself. Today, when he brought me the slop, he was wearing a gas mask. The everyday chores of the lands are much more interesting as I permit my mind to roam to that creature entombed in my barn. It is less distracting of late because of the stink, and I now must face the task of cleaning it. I have prepped a platform based on the designs I have seen at the county fair; A grooming table that holds her wrist and ankles so she is on all fours. For days I have been content with just knowing that it was stored there. To compensate and motivate the chore of cleaning it, I want to take it to another level. I am going to bifurcate her -- 2 for one. At the head I will have her do makeup. The prick blowing will have a classier feel. At the tail, a machine will soothe and erect her cunt for my cock. Something is up; he’s standing over me holding the dark-hued head bag and that terrible pole that locks around my neck. He orders me to role over onto my tummy -- I know this drill, so I put my arms behind my back immediately. (Reaching thru the grate he locks the shackles together.) He slips the bag on my head, yanks the chain taut and locks it. I hear the muffled sound of the grate scratching on the concrete. He yanks me out of the fuck-hole by my neck. The concrete scraps my flesh as I fight to build up my footing. This is the worst -- he pushes me forth by that pole. It is a stifling fright -- I cannot see where I am stepping. He seems to delectation in letting me trip or briskly ambling me into obstacles. I’m now on all 4s locked at the wrist and ankles. It must be a table or platform of some kind. He pulls the spandex hood off my head -- the aim of this position is all of a sudden clear. A bucket of soapy water and a hosepipe are lounging on the floor. Im sure he will make what is to come as terrible as possible. I can’t help but breathe with superb ease as this vile stench is about to be washed from me.
Added: 2017-08-09 • Views: 6 • Duration: 50:55
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