Release Year: 2023

She is 1st locked into wooden stocks to languish for the day. PD keeps her well hydrated, her to out of a big calf bottle. He leaves her alone to receive drenched in a storm. Shivering, pain, this babe can do no thing to protect herself from the pouring rain. After it has subsided, PD tosses filth onto her damp body and throws some greater quantity animalism her face. At night, that babe waits in the stocks, wiggling and whining. After removing the metal pail from her head, PD shoves Mr. Pogo into her throat, getting the sex toy good and soaked previous to it into her wet crack. Next, wenona spends some time in the barn. A noose pulling constricted animal training the neck keeps her on her toes. Sweating and grunting, that babe dances around, stockinged legs trembling. Lying on her back on the immodest wood floor, that babe is tied with str8 arms overhead and legs crossed. PD bonks her with Mr. Pogo then pulls her legs wide into a full straddle. He takes advantage of her position, caning her in natures garb cookie and arse. Standing, this babe is bent over, her arms pulled throughout widen legs. Rope digs harshly animal play her crotch; her labia are swollen and discolored. PD paddles her tortured wet crack in advance of providing some relief with the sex tool. Belted down to an old mattress box springs, that babe lays helplessly on her back with legs open. She flinches and whimpers as PD pushes Mr. Pogo into her a-hole. Squealing in anguish, that babe suffers horribly in this difficult position. Body glistening with oil, that babe is impaled on a sex-toy and fastened to a chair with plastic zip ties. PD denies her air, covering her head with a plastic bag. She breathes deeply, but panics when that babe starts to suffocate. After PD pokes a aperture in the bag, that babe gasps for air, grateful to have survived some other Insex discharge.

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Release Year: 2022

He thinks of em as turkeys.To him those gals are no thing greater quantity than meat. He sees himself as a hunter, a fellow who likes recent meat. And so it starts. They are undressed, his gals. There are 3 of em. He has em in his hunting cabin. Their arms are tied behind their backs, their hands taped. They are gagged with tubing held in place with cable ties. A hardly any feet of chain run from neck to neck, so that they are tethered to one some other. He sits. He tells em about a turkey discharge. As this guy talks, that guy assembles his gun. Their adult baby cries and whimpers escalate. Who could have known? One minute u are just walking your or sipping coffee in your home. And the next thing u know, u are in natures garb. And this guy has a gun. And there is truly no thing else to do, is there? When this chab tells u to run. You run like hell. He drags em outside and unchains em and begins spewing out pellets, scaring em up fine. After all, that guy wishes to be challenged. He’s looking for sport, just a adult baby joy. They run throughout the woods all in a flurry, screaming, squawking. Open season on beauty. The blonde is the 1st to drop. He takes the others down also, the dark brown and the black-haired angel. The marks of paintball trickle down their soft skin in red trails. It is quiet in the woods. Their bodies lie still, white, silent. They are side by side in the back of his truck, all on their stomachs, all in hogties, all gagged. They rock back and forth on tied mounds, bouncing with the bounce of the truck. They make a flurry of terrified chirps. He stops the truck and opens the back gate. To every couple of ankles, this guy attaches a rope. Then this chab moves the truck forward so that they are dragged out of the back by the ankles. He hoists every of em up, their bodies hanging upside down in the centre of the woods. He smacks butts. He plays with their melons and teats, constricted from the cold. His heavy fingers twist and knead, doing with em soever this guy wishes. Evening comes. A fire burns beside a pond. All 3 gals are standing, tied tightly jointly animal play the neck, hobbled this way, groaning, whimpering in the cold. They shuffle close to the fire. But in a short time it is also hawt. They jostle back and forth, breast to breast, their skin luminous in the darksome. He arrives with a metal grill that this chab sets on 2 posts. It is in the shape of a body. He tells em they have to resolve who is going to be cooked tonight. It is for em to give a decision. They groan. They cry, moving backward, clustered jointly, the human cook basket awaiting. The golden-haired is chosen. She is locked into the rungs of the frame, her legs widen, arms locked behind her back, and a metal bar thrust into her fur pie. It keeps her very still, so that the fire can do it is work. She breathes raw as the heat grows, baking, her chest heaving. The other 2 beauties are given the task of making sure she’s roasted admirable and even. Her skin goes red. Please hurry, this babe says, please, please hurry. And so they turn her so that babe can cook the other side and entreat to be turned once more. An apple is poked into the blond’s throat. She is quieter now. As though that babe is giving up, letting go. As though this babe can forget her body. She is basted and barbecued, her round scoops smeared with sauce, leaking down into the fire. Fluid trickle from her knees. The flush of her body may remind him of the pink interior shine of slit. When the lips are widen and moist, just previous to the plunge, and now the scent can sometimes be smoky.

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