Although he was retired, he was still a wealthy and powerful man, and still enjoyed entertaining his hobbies. When he saw the photo, he made a few phone calls and, two days later, he found the meat in his playroom, bound, hooded, gagged, helpless, its perfect breasts framed and lifted by the same shirt it had worn in the picture.
He spent a long time caressing them, enjoying their perfection, the smooth, pale skin, the soft flesh, the perfectly pink, small nipples hardening under his attentions, the struggles and whimpers from the bound gagged meat a pleasant accompaniment to his explorations. Sighing in contentment, he got up and gathered some rope, some paddles, some canes, some whips, some clamps, a package of punks and a lighter as well as some other instruments.
Before he really got started, though, he spent some time using his hands and fingers to maul and bruise and pinch and slap the perfection that was its breasts, enjoying its increased struggling, the sounds coming from its gagged mouth, but most of all enjoying the way the flesh responded in his hands, the way it reddened and bruised.
By the time he was finished, his cum splashed across its chest, its breasts were unrecognizable as the perfection they had been, and the meat had been reduced to a whimpering, sobbing, sweating mess. Both mounds were blackened with bruises, reddened with the blood oozing from the welts covering every millimeter of them, dark and puckered where he had held the burning punks, wilting its flesh, turning its nipples into char.
He stood, deeply satisfied, and left his men to clean up the mess. He did so love destroying perfect things.
She knows what a slut she is, and she always fucks guys who hate her.
She wants to feel them trying to hurt her, break her, degrade and humiliate her. She wants to know that the man tearing into her cunt isn’t even doing it cos he finds her hot - he’s doing it before he hates her and wants to see her helplessly sobbing.
"I’m terribly sorry. My husband got caught up at work. He told me to make sure you were comfortable for an hour or so." She slipped the glass into my hands and knelt in front of me, gently spreading my knees and running her hands up my thighs and under my tight, slutty skirt. "Tell me, how long has he been sleeping with you? It must be getting serious; He doesn’t bring many women home."
And the more she drank, the emptier she felt. The more she suckled on that mind-draining breast, the hornier and thirstier she became. Her job, her friends, her family, everything slowly started to vanish from her mind as she continued to drink, desperate for the heavenly milk that dripped down her chin.
Soon she would forget her own name. And that would only make her thirstier.
My slave girl is deeply humiliated when she has to be on display and masturbate for me.
Naturally, this means she’ll be expected to do so on a regular basis.
She can tell me she hates it all she wants, but I see how wet and flushed she gets.
The trick, fellow Dominants, is telling the difference between what “hate” because they hate it, and what they “hate” because they are shamed to admit they love it.
"Don’t worry, Molly. It doesn’t mean you’re a dyke. It means you’re obedient. Like a dog. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be my bitch in heat?" She didn’t wait for an answer, but grabbed her best friend’s head and forced it down onto her bald cunt.
Very Advanced Yoga With Colon Cleanse
At a disadvantage…
Made y’all a gif set of some of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite porn starlets/fellatrices — the incomparable Sasha Grey. Enjoy. 💋
Reposting by request!