As the minutes get you ~ne by it gets worse and worse. The way your ankles are bolted ou of your wrists. Metal squeezes your tits. The collar. The gag. It wholly hurts. Not a lot. But enough to make everything difficult, on a level your breathing. You weigh it out in your mind. You have power to take one more minute. Maybe two. And just when you be able to't stand another second, PD shows up. He lays a pile of canes and paddles at your feet. And you realize anything is in a superior manner than being locked in this metal that rubs and squeezes and presses. Anything. You can plainly see that things are going to get a lot worse. But you dress in't care. Even pain is better than this. You need PD. And that's exactly the course he wants it.
He oils your bdsm video porn feet, taking the time to grate it between each toe. His touch is incredible. Marvelous. He says, obstacle me know when you want bdsminfrance me to hit you. He makes you a work of your own misery. And he pokes a skewer beneath your toenails. He lights a torch and heats the bottoms of your feet. Your helplessness is abysmal. It's just the beginning. Extended discomfort marked with bright points of penalty and ecstasy quintessential torment.
As time passes, the things that he does set in bdsmilitary operation to seem dreamlike. He's bent your hands backwards, palm up splaying thoroughly your fingers. The room becomes fantastical as he torments your fingers, caning the meaty interest of your palm. But you don't want him to allowance. You don't want to be alone.
You're standing, a 4X4 yoke bolted to your wrists and neck. A metal pipe gag pushes your discourse backwards and down, opening the mouth. Your breath dries your upper palette. You can't swallow or wet your mouth. Metal chastity belt. Ankle spreader. Everything is extremely heavy. The weight messes with your head. It's bad. Really baleful. You're nothing now. Nothing but this weight, this pain. You're not you anymore. And perhaps that's exactly what you wanted all along.
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