Synesthesia

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“It’s brief for Synesthesia”, she says, and pauses, looking up at me. I can tell she’s just itching to give the definition, so I have fun along and ask. She says it means the blurring of the senses. She’s thinking stinking colors and perceiving sounds. I have a different combo of sensations planned. The rock hard brim of the wooden presses painfully into her pussy as she fights and her groin cubs the whole weight of her body. She tries to hold out, but the lash biting her orbs and belly brings tears welling up nearly immediately. Soon after, she’s opened up up on her toes from floor to ceiling and packaged so cock-squeezing that the strain her into the unsheathed flesh, making the flesh in those areas cock-squeezing and sensitive. Lil' clamps with serrated teeth to nibble into and hold their grab as weight after weight is added. A hitachi wedged inbetween her gams performs its function and a crude combo of pain and elation commences to have fun out in her body. She wrings her hips together and squirms. A teardrop spins down her cheek. She doesn’t know whether to come or cry. It’s not textbook synesthesia, perhaps, but it’s superb enough for me.