Release Year: 2022
Studio: HardTied
The sky is pitch darksome when I discharge up in ottoman. My body is overspread in sweat but I am shivering and cold. The nightmare was so vivid, nearly real. It comes back to me in flashes. Like in a storm, how the lightening discloses anything for a brief pont of time. And then all is darksome anew. I watch a abode in a miniature city I don't recognize. A chap in darksome grinning evilly as that guy throws me to the floor, tapes me up, and yanks my underclothing off. My ally tyler is in the bathtub groaning and convulsing with face hole taped and shirt over her head. There is no thing I can do to assist her. I can't even assist myself. I watch myself alone, thonged down to a card table, trembling in dismay. He stands above. Smoking. Watching. Deciding what to do now, what the next pain will be. The heat of his cigarette warms me when this chab nears. My skin is hungry to feel it is burn. He touches it down to my love muffins. Softly animalism 1st, then harder, so that red dotted rings appear around my teats. Then that guy drags it lazily down across my abdomen and crams it firmly into my clitoris. I groan and screech in . I am staked out with arms and legs widen wide and back arched over a thick, round log. Eyes closed, body motionless and drenched with oil. Exhausted and unable to struggle, I am no thing but a lifeless, oozy mass of flesh, an ornament for his lawn. Then there's a cabin surrounded by woods and that same stud with that same grin. He disrobes us down and leads us into the wilderness like 2 on a single leather leash. Our legs are held open with branches and that guy looks back to smirk animal play our stupid waddling walk. The rough, splintery sextoy pushed unfathomable into my love tunnel pokes and prods with every step, searching for a delicate spot. He tethers us to a tree and leaves us there, bare, vulnerable, and restrained. Only able to communicate with hopeless eyes and muffled moans. Simultaneously, we strain to free ourselves. I remember trees. Two of em, facing every other. And we are fastened to em, to share our torture. Mouths stuffed with wooden gags, our cries mingle to create a single, anguished tune. I see tyler writhe below the ropes, rubbing her tender skin against the tough, scratchy bark. I watch the despair in her eyes. She is trapped. And so am I. He strikes her with a thin tree branch untill pointer sisters and haunches are overspread with red lashes. I cringe animalism the sound of every jerk off and glance down animal training my own sensitive love melons, made purple and bulbous by the leather around em. My time will come in a short time sufficiently. The final thing I recall: this guy is grumbling and tossing me into a aperture. ÒGotta bury the evidence, I think that guy told. He covers me in filth packed tightly up to my neck. He brings tyler out, buries her head, and secures her feet with wooden stakes. After placing a ring gag in my throat, that guy unzips his panties and relieves himself, spraying pee all over one as well as the other of us. Then that guy walks away, abandoning us. I am left with that picture in my mind. A disembodied head and a decapitated body baptized with the make water of our captor. Just the thought sends chills crawling down my spine. But I am safe animalism home. And there is no stud in darksome. Because it was all just a fantasy. Right?
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