London River is the typical nagging wife. She sits around the house gossiping on the phone to her friends while OT is hard at work. He does the laundry, cooks, cleans the dishes, vacuums the house, and works a full time job. She does nothing but insult and degrade him. She even cheats on him.
There’s only so much a grown man can take. One day he just snaps. What comes next London never would have expected. At first OT wonders if he made the right decision. He regrets hurting his lovely wife, but London can’t help mouthing off to him. She just can’t help pushing him.
She’s going to feel his humiliation, his pain, his sadness. She’s going to lose everything before he’s done with her. All the while he’ll transform himself. Maybe when he’s done she’ll deserve him. Maybe he’ll make her love him as much as he loves her.
"The horror and the grace", she knows that line all too well. Poetically, it describes her predicament perfectly. Her inability to remember the lines, under the stressors that Creep delights in applying, will result in much suffering.
It is with such delight and reflection I stand over her now, enjoying a good Camel smoke. She is most beautiful with a black latex smother hood stretched over her head. It is a nice contrast from that painted face mounted in the wall a few days back. I inserted a couple rubber tubes up her nose holes to ensure there is no mishap with breathing. This was a safety measure as she has been locked on all fours stewing since sunrise.
My knees are killing me!!! The only relief is to carefully hang my weight from that damnable ass hook he seems to love so much. I’m sweating from this exertion. I feel the sweat squishing around my chin and mouth. The tubes jammed up my nose are maddening and my breath is labored because of them. I am engulfed in an oppressive, sticky blackness. The pressure, which was a mere sensation when he pulled it over my head, is aching now. The wickedest tickling and pricking assaults my skin; I imagine it must be flies or mosquitos feasting.
I hear the door slam. Though I cannot see or hear his movements, I am sure he is up to something. My mind swirls with imaginings of what he is about to do. My head screams, “Please do something!” The terror of what my own thoughts conjure reverberate in this smothering blackness.
Do I sense that he is close? I hold my breath to empty any sound in my head. Suddenly an acrid stench assaults my nose when I finally inhale. That fucker is blowing smoke at me. I can’t avert my head as it is locked at the neck. With every inhale I receive another dose. I cannot escape it; I feel dizzy — my body tingles and trembles.
Two for One in Ultra4K
Sleep is fitful and only possible after the exhaustion of constant shifting around and adjusting the stones that are my bed. It feels like my body has been covered in blows – the rocks are bruising me. Its getting colder. The sun is lower; It beams through a window and illuminates the details of what hovers above me. I am one of those web bound carcasses. As it darkens, the chirps and squishes begin — shadowy flutters of darting fantoms swirl above me. They seem to be attracted by my presence — often diving at me and bombing me with their droppings.
The smell grows fouler by the day; my toilet is my bed. In the beginning he would come and stand over me; staring, pissing, playing with himself. Today, when he brought me the slop, he was wearing a gas mask.
The everyday chores of the grounds are much more interesting as I allow my mind to wander to that creature entombed in my barn. It is less distracting of late because of the stink, and I now must face the task of cleaning it. I have prepared a platform based on the designs I have seen at the county fair; A grooming table that holds her wrist and ankles so she is on all fours.
For days I have been content with just knowing that it was stored there. To compensate and motivate the chore of cleaning it, I want to take it to another level.
I am going to bifurcate her — two for one. At the head I will have her do makeup. The cock sucking will have a classier feel. At the tail, a machine will soften and swell her gash for my cock.
Something is up; he’s standing over me holding the black head bag and that terrible pole that locks around my neck. He orders me to role over onto my stomach — I know this drill, so I put my hands behind my back immediately. (Reaching through the grate he locks the shackles together.) He slides the bag on my head, yanks the chain tight and locks it.
I hear the muffled sound of the grate scraping on the concrete. He yanks me out of the hole by my neck. The concrete scraps my skin as I struggle to gain my footing. This is the worst — he pushes me forward by that pole. It is a stifling fright — I cannot see where I am stepping. He seems to delight in letting me trip or briskly walking me into obstacles.
I’m now on all fours locked at the wrist and ankles. It must be a table or platform of some kind. He pulls the hood off my head — the purpose of this position is suddenly clear. A bucket of soapy water and a hose are lying on the floor. Im sure he will make what is to come as horrible as possible. I can’t help but sigh with great relief as this vile stench is about to be washed from me.
Her condition has become more ingrained. She has been in the ass bar ring for 48 hrs. I took her arms out of play by shackling them to the back of the ass ring. Her ankles are shackled together, thus, her legs can afford her little balance. She is forced into a crunch position and her only mobility is waddling on her ass. I am delighted that the monitoring system is fully implemented; now I can watch her from anywhere.
This is insufferable! My ass and back are constantly aching. How long have I been like this? I fear if I try to recline I will fall over and not be able to sit up again. I have shown no complaint or resistance to his machinations — I dare not. I think this strategy is working as he has not threatened me. He lavishly enjoys the perversity of this bondage and the way he manipulates me. It dominates my mind. I am utterly dependent on him. My isolation has turned my mind to only him — I look forward to his return, though this thought is abhorrent!
I am famished and thirsty — clearly, this is intentional, if I had to subscribe some purpose to this madness I suspect he wishes to control me in a more sophisticated manner; something beyond force, coercion and sex. He obviously is maniacal and highly organized in in the methods he employs to terrorize me. This infernal bar he has locked on my head goes to the back of my tongue and has begun to rust from my saliva. The taste of iron is the only thing that wets my palate. The drooling is constant — I am so thirsty that I tip my head back and try to swallow it.
This discharge is not the worst though. Desperate to relieve myself I wiggled over to the iron grill he has chained me to and expelled a shit through the grate. I piss on the floor boards. Though it is a torturous effort I discovered that I can roll onto my back and then my side. This has to be positioned carefully for I can then use my tongue to lick up the piss.
CREEP: Where is she? Well, she has been driving for four hours.
SIERRA CIRQUE: He wasn’t kidding when he said it was remote. Woodlands and run-down towns.
CREEP: God, she looks great. She’s so beautiful. I love the glasses. It makes her look smart. She’s tall. She seems willing enough too.
SIERRA CIRQUE: Boy, he looks old, but he’s not fat. He’s tall. He seems safe enough.
CREEP: Oh my God, she’s sliding the skirt off over her ass. She’s folding up her skirt, she must be neat. She’s curious, she’s looking around. I wonder if she suspects anything.
SIERRA CIRQUE: Where did he go and what is taking him so long? He disappeared right after I got here. How strange. I hope the shoot starts soon so I can get out of this creepy place.
CREEP: She’s got some long legs to cover to get those pantyhose off.
SIERRA CIRQUE: This underwear smells musty. I wonder if anyone else has worn them. Probably him.
This lingerie looks like it’s from the 50s. He probably jerked off to women dressed like this.
CREEP: God, my dick is as hard as it was back in Gary, Indiana when I used to roam the neighborhoods peeping through bedroom windows.
She seems pretty stoic. Once I get her tied I can shift the propriety.
“Do you know why your ankles are tied first?”
SIERRA CIRQUE: Where the hell is he? This is getting creepier by the minute.
Shit, now he is fondling me — I mustn’t show that I am scared. I don’t dare say anything that will excite him — I have to play along. If I confront him, and it is my worst fear, I will have no place to go.
Abigail Dupree came here to quench her thirst for intense BDSM. Jack Hammer came here to take a sexy, young woman, strip her down and put her to the ultimate test of her limits. She was expecting a lover who would dote on her and pay attention to her needs. What she got instead was a strong man, dispassionately going about breaking her body and her will.
He comes to her, splits her pantyhose with a knife, and begins fucking her with Mr. Pogo while she screams into her gag. She should count herself as lucky that he didn’t use the knife. All three of her holes are going to get a work out. The metal hook will take her ass, and the dildos and gags will teach her the two most important things she can do with her mouth, sucking cock and keeping quiet.
But she is lobster girl for a reason. Jack has a huge bath of water ready, and a blow torch making sure it’s nice and hot. Caged and drooling, Abigail is in a state of complete panic as he begins to lower her into the pot. Screaming and crying, Abigail’s worst fears are coming true. Maybe she should have been better at enticing Jack to keep her around.
Conjugal visits are rare in the U.S. but PD does not run the average prison. He keeps only one or two inmates at a time and for one as hot as Charlotte Vale he is definitely going to take advantage of her. She gets to languish a bit while he contemplates exactly what to do with her. It is likely to be the only peace she will get all day.
It is a long day and it shows no sign of ending as the sun goes down. Out in the woods PD may not have all of his tools available, but the one that matters is ready to go. She was let out of her cell for a reason and it was not just to look pretty and take a beating. PD wants to use her and if she wants to stay out of the deepest, darkest, dirtiest hole he can find she is going to perform.
Life is tough for Charlotte Vale. This day starts with a rude awakening. She had to spend the night locked away with her mouth in prime cock-sucking position because that is what the man that owns her wants. Now she needs to demonstrate what that experience has taught her. While most people would enjoy eggs and bacon for breakfast, hers is just dry oats swimming in her own juice. She needs to eat. She is starving but he will not give her anything else. She has to eat it, as much as it makes her wretch.
There is cold, electrified metal inside of her now. PD wants to watch her cum, but all Charlotte wants is a warm cock. Her screams and her tears are what make him hard, and that is the nature of her predicament. To get the fucking she so desperately desires she has to take the pain and humiliation that terrifies her.
London River is hot enough to make PD think about doing extremely terrible things to that body of hers. The kinds of things that make girls slip into a new state of mind, subspace, and make them forget that they were ever anything other than some man’s sex toy.
It starts with stripping her, both of her clothing and her dignity. He cuts away the pretty dress she is wearing, piece by piece, leaving first her tits exposed, and then the rest of her. She’ll get something more befitting her station to wear later.
She also needs to be shown how to respond to his attention. She can’t just expect him to treat her softly and give her mind blowing orgasms without getting a little something in return. PD loves to watch his girls suffer. He keeps them around just for the times when he wants to hear a lady scream her brains out. Whether it’s with whip, or cane, or his bare hands, he has a lot of ways to make a girl sing the songs he wants to hear.