Leep is fitful and only possible after the exhaustion of constant shifting around and adjusting the stones that are my bed. It feels like my body has been covered in blows - the rocks are bruising me. Its getting colder. The sun is lower; It beams through a window and illuminates the details of what hovers above me. I am one of those web bound carcasses. As it darkens, the chirps and squishes begin -- 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 smell grows fouler by the day; my toilet is my bed. In the beginning he would come and stand over me; staring, pissing, playing with himself. Today, when he brought me the slop, he was wearing a gas mask. The everyday chores of the grounds are much more interesting as I allow my mind to wander 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 prepared 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 -- two for one. At the head I will have her do makeup. The cock sucking will have a classier feel. At the tail, a machine will soften and swell her gash for my cock. Something is up; he’s standing over me holding the black head bag and that terrible pole that locks around my neck. He orders me to role over onto my stomach -- I know this drill, so I put my hands behind my back immediately. (Reaching through the grate he locks the shackles together.) He slides the bag on my head, yanks the chain tight and locks it. I hear the muffled sound of the grate scraping on the concrete. He yanks me out of the hole by my neck. The concrete scraps my skin as I struggle to gain my footing. This is the worst -- he pushes me forward by that pole. It is a stifling fright -- I cannot see where I am stepping. He seems to delight in letting me trip or briskly walking me into obstacles. I’m now on all fours locked at the wrist and ankles. It must be a table or platform of some kind. He pulls the hood off my head -- the purpose of this position is suddenly clear. A bucket of soapy water and a hose are lying on the floor. Im sure he will make what is to come as horrible as possible. I can’t help but sigh with great relief as this vile stench is about to be washed from me.
I was really inspired by the works of John Willie. It's one of the things that got me into the world of Glamor bondage photography. I thought if I could dress up like those women and be photographed maybe I would be as sexy as those women. I had only done a few photoshoots before I answered an ad in the paper for a photoshoot. After some negotiations on the phone I agreed to meet OT at his studio. I should have known by the way he looked at me. I should have seen his collection of gadgets and walked right back out the door. I did get to wear a corset like in Willie's work. I did get the weird and sadistic bondage. OT even dressed me like one of the maids. He also impaled me on a metal dick and mounted me by my neck to a metal pipe. This isn't what I expected. This isn't what we agreed upon. None-the-less it's exactly what I wanted!
They hang her from the ceiling, savagely plow her ass, do tons of ass to mouth, face fuck and gag her, punish her with slaps, caning, and paddling, make her eat their asses, and on and on.
Trips to the county fair are always resourceful. The animals are wonderful and there is that undertone of care and love they receive. The tools of husbandry are especially interesting and one device has always fired my imagination: the grooming table. It is with such delight and reflection I stand over her now, enjoying a good Camel smoke. She is most beautiful with a black latex smother hood stretched over her head. It is a nice contrast from that painted face mounted in the wall a few days back. I inserted a couple rubber tubes up her nose holes to ensure there is no mishap with breathing. This was a safety measure as she has been locked on all fours stewing since sunrise. My knees are killing me!!! The only relief is to carefully hang my weight from that damnable ass hook he seems to love so much. I’m sweating from this exertion. I feel the sweat squishing around my chin and mouth. The tubes jammed up my nose are maddening and my breath is labored because of them. I am engulfed in an oppressive, sticky blackness. The pressure, which was a mere sensation when he pulled it over my head, is aching now. The wickedest tickling and pricking assaults my skin; I imagine it must be flies or mosquitos feasting. I hear the door slam. Though I cannot see or hear his movements, I am sure he is up to something. My mind swirls with imaginings of what he is about to do. My head screams, “Please do something!” The terror of what my own thoughts conjure reverberate in this smothering blackness. Do I sense that he is close? I hold my breath to empty any sound in my head. Suddenly an acrid stench assaults my nose when I finally inhale. That fucker is blowing smoke at me. I can’t avert my head as it is locked at the neck. With every inhale I receive another dose. I cannot escape it; I feel dizzy -- my body tingles and trembles.
Daisy Ducati is the type of girl who likes to be pushed, not shoved. She likes to be seduced into dark alley ways, not garishly mowed over.
Daisy Ducati is a fierce female being. You must respect her.
There are many ways one can show their respect for such a woman. I choose to push her. Challenge her.
I ask Daisy to chase after the things I deem important. I instruct her what to do. This challenges Daisy, as she doesn't like to be told what to do. Ultimately, though, Daisy submits.
She submits to the opportunity to express herself - even if that looks much different that she had intended it to.
Daisy is used to being a controlled, confidant young woman, who is "milking her youth like a swollen prostate." But, here, we find Daisy uncontrolled. Here, she finds new corners in her familiar psyche. We witness Daisy battle a sense of panic, of discomfort and of pain.
With a girl like Daisy, be prepared to push her or what the hell is the point?
This busty babe loves having her pussy and asshole sex with the biggest dildos! Her holes get an extreme pounding while having squirting and prolpasing orgasms!