211
211 visits Insex and receives the ultimate stress test, left to languish, not allowed to come, caned, fucked, hot wax, the onerous wall of bifurcation, and drowning. She goes from ultimate boredom to terror. She seems to prefer the terror. At least it holds her interest. One wrist is manacled above her head to a post for an hour and a half. She frets. She changes position. She yawns, not for one minute comprehending what’s in store for her. Let’s face it. She’s annoyed. He locks her other wrist to her ankle. Her skirt hikes up her ass. Her neck is chained to her other ankle. He allows her to sit on his lap. He slips a dildo in and out of her. Then she’s given a stool with a dildo poking up. She’s told to fuck herself. Chained to the post with her wrists stretched above, her mouth is forced open and her tongue is tied. Drool drips between her breasts, then downward into her tightly clipped little bush. It dribbles off her pussy. After a caning, a vibrator hums against the folds of her pussy. It stops prematurely. She looks shocked. The pace picks up. She’s bound to a triangular metal shape, her arms straight out, her knees spread wide, her feet almost touching. Red candle wax drips around her pussy and nipples. She’s single-tailed, then fucked by Mr. Pogo as she’s caned. Cut in half at the waist by the unbearable beastly wall of bifurcation, ass beads are shoved in. She comes without permission, so must be pussy flogged. Her labia are spread with clips. Penetrated in ass and cunt, a vibrator is dangled down to her pussy and left to torment. 211 is lovely in a hogtie, black tape over her mouth. Her body is lashed to a heavy board and she’s suspended upside down, then lowered repeatedly, head-first into a trough filled with water. She is soon balled up in a metal body frame, in which she can be rotated and spun. A pressure spray targets her pussy, face, breasts, and asshole. She is dropped head first into the water again, and her ass and pussy are sprayed mercilessly. It must take all her attention to keep control while submerged. So maybe she’s not quite as bored now. Not as annoyed. Now, she’s just downright terrified. Sometimes terror is easier.