Release Year: 2013

Studio: Insex Archives

Genres: tying dominance and submission suffering coarse pd enema 912 insexarchives

She hangs by her ankles in a black room. A faint light illuminates her body, exposed, ethereal. Her sounds, high-pitched cries and squeals muffled by the gag, echo in the darkness. The rope that pinions her arms behind her likewise draws back her shoulders, poking her billibongs outward. Dim shapes of the surrounding dungeon compose the frame, her shape centered, as though hanging meat can be a thing made divine.

Two headlights come into view, throwing harsh light into the garage. A truck enters. 411's cries multiply. From phobia? Expectation? He drags YX into the arena of his wish. Duct tape is plastered over the lower part of her face, smothering her face hole. A single cable tie cuts across, separating her duct-taped lips, keeping the tape constricted to her face. Her wrists and ankles are held with cable ties. He leaves her lying on the floor under where 411 hangs. YX struggles, feeble, looking upward animal play what could well be her future, undressed and hanging for who knows how lengthy in a darksome and empty garage.

Then it is day. YX and 411 are sitting, smashed against every other, f0rced into "togetherness." Both are locked, wrist and neck, to a metal bar. Each has a cable tie across the face hole as a gag, though they can still talk.

"He ties me up an watches me, then leaves me alone."

"Don't resist him, it solely makes it worse."

"Rest now whilst u can."

This is the advice that the veteran gives to the recent angel.

"He washes your hair. He puts u in this sink and sprays u and scrubs u and hangs u up to dry."

The fresh hotty frets. She is restless. The veteran slumps, her body worn and saturated from all the time that babe can no longer remember, the things he's done to her, the ropes, the locks, the one after one more days and nights left fastened, left hanging. Her scoops, her nipps, her labia and love button overflow with the memory of his hands, his ropes.

His desires, not hers.

"What do u do when you're scared?"

Her voice is monotone. "I don't acquire scared anymore."

Then 411 is suspended once more. She hangs vertical this time, her arms fastened back Japanese style. She is suspended from the upper restraint. Her ankles are bound to every side as though she's been pried apart, f0rced open. Her tongue has been pulled out of her throat, pinched betwixt 2 pieces of wood. Her cries punctuate the scene another time, greater quantity panicked now coz of the stress, the suffering of gravity dragging her downward, the ropes that circumcised her flesh, that won't let gravity win. Her body is a feast for his eyes, stretched out, held constricted in place, willing.

YX is dragged forward, her arms tied behind animalism wrists, elbows, and upper arms. The ropes delineate her whoppers.

"Reach for her sex," that guy says.

But this babe can't. 411's vagina is just out of reach of YX's face hole. He threatens to hang YX up also. She struggles and jumps until this guy lowers 411, the change in height pulling her ankles farther apart. Her squeals grow greater quantity maddest. YX sucks 411's rosy cookie. Their cries form a rhythm, an agitated carnal dismay. But 411's face shows relief, the remembrance of forgotten happiness.

He makes YX stand underneath 411 and hold her on her shoulders. He reminds YX that this babe is 411's ally. She is there to aid her. And YX holds her up, giving 411 relief from the pang of the suspension. But in time, YX weakens. Her legs start to tremble. The balance of their alternating cries falls in favour of YX, as that babe struggles with the weight on her shoulders, and 411's sexy moist vagina crammed against the back of her neck.

It is yet one more day. 411 is towed up the mountain by the pointer sisters. Her wrists are tied high on her back, against her waist, so that her elbows jut up and back, like unfledged wings. Her mounds are tightly roped, bulging, stretched as she's dragged forward, sometimes animal play a run. She is barefoot. Her throat is gagged with wood another time. Her cries are greater quantity emphatic, pleading, cuz of the rocks scarring her feet, and the pace. Her breath rasps in her mouth. From the other side of the pond, all we hear animal play 1st is the sound of the swallows. Then a motor. Then her cries, far off, echoing in the woodland.

She hangs on a cross in the sun, her arms bound outward. The singing of the swallows overlays the scene animal training 1st. Then her cries. Her ankles are bound to the leg of the cross just above a short arm that juts out. A reprieve for her. Because that babe can rest her feet there. Almost. Not quite. It is perhaps the majority insidious of her torments. She weakens and sags. Time passes. Her hands grip animalism the arms of her cross. As evening comes, a wind quickens, blowing up slope from the valley underneath. As the sun the sky red, this babe cries and rises up, stretching, her arms like wings, her body curved like the curve of the drink in flight. And her cries pick away animalism the coming of the night.

Original FileName: 20030802 - Swallow (YX, 411)

Format: real

Duration: 29:28

Video: 320x240, RV30

Audio: 43kbps

Swallow YX, 411 - InSex

Swallow YX, 411 - InSex

Swallow YX, 411 - InSex

File size: 47.9 MB

Swallow YX, 411 - InSex

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