Studio: Insex Archives
What starts as your everyday abduction ends with the large stunner, a martyrdom replete with a crucifixion.
She starts unhappy. ? On the floor of a straw-filled barn. She wears jogging garments as though this chab caught her unaware. She struggles, her ankles and wrists locked into stocks made of metal rungs bolted throughout an old four-by-four. A feed sack has been poked over her head. She groans and cries.
A pitchfork is the toy for her instruction. It pokes. It prods. It probes.
He fingers her throughout her shorts.
"You fuck boyz with that, do not you?" this guy says.
When the feed sack is pulled off her head, her face hole is stuffed and taped. He tightens leather around her neck. He crams against her windpipe, urging her to be quiet. And this chab cuts off her clothing.
He wrings her titties as though prostate play, "Just like a cow." He beats her fur pie with a sex-toy. He rubs her cookie roughly. He shoves the fake penis in and threatens her to hold it that way during the time that he is gone or hell beat her, hell suffocate her. She lies nude, up-ended in the stocks with a dark sex toy shoving out of her.
He talks to her about her holes. How many does that babe have? Three? Five?
And this chab trains her. He teaches her to open her rectal hole for him, every time wider, until this chab can acquire the fake penis in that aperture likewise.
She is then stretched out wide, spread-eagle on the barn floor, her limbs forming the angles of a cross. The tines of the pitchfork fondle her once more. But this time, the subdue is shoved into her muff. He locks a box around her head. Rectangular box, her body exposed, and the lengthy subdue of the pitchfork protruding from betwixt her legs. She becomes no thing but Image, a foreshadowing of what is to come.
He ties her arms in a Japanese cradle. Ropes bind her bazookas, chest, waist, crotch. Her love button is pinched betwixt the 2 taut ropes. She is hung in an inverted suspension. He scourges her. He sits in front of her face and copulates her throat with a sex tool, domesticating her, making her usable to him.
Eventually that babe is his mare. He fits her with a bit and a lengthy tail drooping from her butt. He drives her, holding the reins. A stream rushes beside the barn. Before her, the lengthy green fields lead upward, into the mountains.
He compels her there, upward, pulling her with a rope that leads from the bumper of his truck to her crotch. She is undressed, a raw cross fastened to her arms. She drags it behind her. And this babe is barefoot, her steps mincing as this babe makes her way along the gravel road. She climbs higher. Sunlight grows finer. Meadow weeds gleam.
The end of her lengthy road, discharged from behind, is the erect cross and her hanging upon it. The wide valley stretches previous to her. She bakes in the sun. Time passes. She struggles to discover a purchase for her feet, but there is none. She writhes. She tires.
The sun dips down, showing her torment in gold, the light of evening. Not much longer, and her body is still. She hangs motionless, the last image, icon made flesh.
Format: real
Duration: 1:01:59
Video: 320x240, RV30
Audio: 43kbps
File size: 101.1 MB
