It's all about Ashley Lane's amazing body today. This babe has a lot of assets we plan on taking advantage of. Girls get their nipples and clits pierced to increase their sensitivity. That's a good idea when they're at home with someone who is willing to be gentle but for us that just makes them even bigger targets. We'll use them to make her cum, sure, but first we're going to make her scream. The spike chair is an old favorite torture device of ours. It's reminiscent of the kind of medieval bondage device that people think of when they dream of intense BDSM action. Wooden spikes come up to poke Ashley in the ass and under her arms and she is shackled down into place so they can really dig in. The metal box over her head makes her pained shrieks echo into her ears. It's like a panic-inducing feedback loop. The way the box amplifies the sounds makes her agony seem so much worse. Ashley's beautiful ass hasn't gotten the attention it deserves. OT puts her on her back with her legs locked up in the air and starts wailing on her back side with a stinging cane. It's clear why she's screaming at the top of her lungs and why tears are starting to well up in her eyes. The blows are landing with so much make that the bruises are forming almost instantly. We promised her we'd give her the most intense orgasms of her life, but we weren't kidding when we said she'd have to work for them.
I had just enough chain to reach the end where it was attached to the floor, but it was locked to the ground. The thick metal collar around my neck was also locked. The rubber in my mouth was surrounded by a strap of metal that locked behind my head. I was trapped. As if I could have released the chain from the floor he came in and pulled it tighter so I could no longer reach the lock. When I had finally gotten comfortable he came in and pulled it even tighter. The device he put me on next held me with my ass in the air. With my legs spread my sweet pussy was completely exposed. His tender caress and gentle kiss only made me more afraid of what he was going to do to me next. When the heavy paddle hit my ass for the first time I knew this was going to be worse than I had feared. My screams didn't slow him down. They only made him decide to finger my asshole before he shoved a thick metal hook inside. His final contortion leaves my asshole completely open for a giant dildo and my ass exposed for a heavy caning. That's not enough for him though. He canes my feet till I'm near tears. Then he decides to try and get me to cum. It's not hard. Pumping the dildo a little and vibrating my clit is all it takes before I'm panting and shaking with orgasm.
Usually when we interrogate a girl we like to use a bit of electricity, but for Kay we've decided to go in a different direction. Her pussy is nice. Too nice to leave it alone. We just toss her down right on her back, spread her legs wide open, and take aim on that bare snatch of hers with a few of our nastier implements.
Her condition has become more ingrained. She has been in the ass bar ring for 48 hrs. I took her arms out of play by shackling them to the back of the ass ring. Her ankles are shackled together, thus, her legs can afford her little balance. She is made into a crunch position and her only mobility is waddling on her ass. I am delighted that the monitoring system is fully implemented; now I can watch her from anywhere. This is insufferable! My ass and back are constantly aching. How long have I been like this? I fear if I try to recline I will fall over and not be able to sit up again. I have shown no complaint or resistance to his machinations — I dare not. I think this strategy is working as he has not threatened me. He lavishly enjoys the perversity of this bondage and the way he manipulates me. It dominates my mind. I am utterly dependent on him. My isolation has turned my mind to only him — I look forward to his return, though this thought is abhorrent! I am famished and thirsty — clearly, this is intentional, if I had to subscribe some purpose to this madness I suspect he wishes to control me in a more sophisticated manner; something beyond make, coercion and sex. He obviously is maniacal and highly organized in in the methods he employs to terrorize me. This infernal bar he has locked on my head goes to the back of my tongue and has begun to rust from my saliva. The taste of iron is the only thing that wets my palate. The drooling is constant — I am so thirsty that I tip my head back and try to swallow it. This discharge is not the worst though. Desperate to relieve myself I wiggled over to the iron grill he has chained me to and expelled a shit through the grate. I piss on the floor boards. Though it is a torturous effort I discovered that I can roll onto my back and then my side. This has to be positioned carefully for I can then use my tongue to lick up the piss.
London River is one of the most intense and intimidating handlers we have on our staff. She is probably the most feared among our models and even some of the staff.
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.