Like the jaws of a giant steel break catch, the Iron Maiden lies open awaiting fresh meat. He puts her inside as well as closes it over her body. Eight thick steel rungs are loosened one by one and also went down tight versus her flesh. Hoisting up his new development, he hangs his sculpture of steel as well as meat in the air. She can wiggle her fingers simply a little. Or else, she can not move at all. He canes her. Holding a vibrator against her pussy, he remains to cane her, mixing those 2 old toxins – enjoyment and also discomfort. Her body quakes. Her eyes roll back. She comes. After penetrating her in cunt as well as butt, he's unrelenting, tearing at her skin with a singletail. Her body, folded, is locked right into a different steel device. He rests her on a bed of spikes as well as tightens the broad collar at her throat up until her breath wears. Currently drawing dick, wheezing for air, she has a hard time. It makes him hard. After can be found in her mouth and face, he leaves her. She sees him go, an odd hopeless requirement in her eyes.

Claire sheds her mind. Claire gets some enjoyment to balance out the pain. Claire's hands are still stuck in the floor below her. Her body hangs – connected at the ankle joints – to the spreader above her. Sibling Dee focuses her attention on Claire's tits. Generating some attractive sobs. Sis Dee isn't above offering Claire satisfaction. It's important to make your subject feel good so they remember what they are missing when they are suffering for you. Missing your hands below the boards is something, but not being able to see your whole body is totally disorienting. Claire endures an intense caning while her head hangs in between the boards of the barn.

Upon entering the grotto the next morning, I expected to clean up the tailings from their dining. What a shock seeing her as I left her. A couple kicks — she stirs and moans. I had satiated myself and expected to share this morsel with my friends living amongst the trees and slopes of the mountain. To prepare the feast I hogtied and wrapped her head and hands with tape. Looking down at her now I could see hair stuck to the tape and covering the ground, It looked as if they had laid beside her — maybe to keep her warm Many days have passed since that cold misty Fall morning surprise. She continues to reveal the wisdom of the mountain. Just when she seemed resigned to the "adjustment" routines, I added, probably, the most terrible one she could imagine. I sensed that she had a lot at stake with her hair grooming. Removing this last vestige of her vanity would completely empty her. I hooked up a double bind pushup rig by weaving her hair into a pulley. As her arms tired she could pull her hair out. She is a strong cunt — she resisted for at least an hour. Then, just as she began to collapse, I placed the scissors within her grasp.

The coyotes will have a feast; her valiva runs thick and copiously. I am beside myself with this whore. She cringes at my attentions yet her body pulses, reaching out for more. This is the ultimate state and the final betrayal. Her mind and sense of self have hopelessly failed.