Hmm; coming all the way from England to perform on the Insex sight – this sounds interesting.

She comes in with a management style outfit on – an expression of power? Let’s get her roped in a box-tie and hobble the left gam with some loops, a cinch at the knee and secured to the leg of the chair. This way we can watch the other gam un-impeded.

Next step -Fill the face hole. We go through a bag of fluffy socks every couple of months. Stuff it in the back between the upper and lower molars first. Use pressure to wedge the jaw wide. Now fill the void with the rest of the sock. The best tape is window seal; it is slightly elastic, sticks nicely to itself and can be pulled from the hair without a mess.

Her helplessness is dramatized when PD casually sits beside her and rummages through her purse. He finds a pair of panties stashed there and proceeds to put them over her head. Now for a savory moment; let’s peel those clothes off.

I think the old man is channelling the grandmaster Nureki Chimo. He rigs her to a floating bar sideways. She moans, writhes and squeals constantly. She’s into it as indicated by her performance.

Let’s go for an orgasm. Pump her with Mr. Pogo and pulse the knob – Yep, she is making all the right sounds; the ropes are hugging her tight; she feels safe; and she knows she is arousing us. To please is the greatest turn on.

Her enthusiasm for a struggle is dramatic. Pogo is pumping, cunt is dripping, let’s keep going nothing is limiting.

PD is utterly inspired by this squirm – this is a unique charm. She is ready for the farm.
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Did angelene lose weight like a good girl, or will she face harsh punishment and humiliation in Insex Fat Camp 2? During angelene’s second Live Feed, she learns that a cattle prod is integral to an exercise regimen, and that a cane leaves long-lasting bruising impressions. For a complete clean out, plug her ass and administer an ugly-tasting fast-acting laxative, giving it time to work its magic. Though in angelene’s case, the messy bursts clear the room, leaving her hanging alone in her cage, awaiting her next ordeal.

angelene’s neck and wrists are locked onto the wall, holding her in a sitting position. Her “chair” is a post with a dildo that spears up inside of her. Sweat gleams on her face and chest, forming droplets as her endurance is sorely tested. She bargains cane strokes for two short periods of sitting on a real stool. Before the caning, however, it is time for exercise. Sit-ups, push-ups, and jumping jacks take on an element of terror as cyd stands by with a cattle prod, delivering quick punishment if she tries to rest. She gasps for breath after three minutes of breast-bouncing jumping jacks, ashamed that she is still out of shape.

Locked down onto her hands and knees, angelene awaits nineteen cane strokes. She’s lost two and a half pounds, with fifteen big ones still to go – that’s fifteen cane strokes. Plus the four cane strokes for which she bargained. An agonizing, paced caning follows. angelene is soon reduced to tears. Each stroke sends waves of shock rebounding through her body. After nineteen whacks, a series of severe hash marks line her ass. cyd gives her a moment of tenderness.

Her sphincter is lubed and a large butt plug with a dangling chain is pushed into her hole. She’s locked into the bird cage, her wrists shackled. She sucks an ultra fast-acting laxative from a feed bottle. The taste of the stuff looks to be a torment in itself. Her face contorts with every sip. She’s hooded and the waiting begins. Her pussy languishes, the labia folded together. As the pressure mounts, cyd tickles her, then shocks her with the cattle prod. It’s not until she’s in quite a lot of distress that cyd “pulls the plug”. But nothing happens. It appears she’s locked up in more ways than one. Then the gush begins, splatting beneath her, both solid and liquid. Her asshole protrudes. cyd holds his nose. She’s left hanging as the crew escapes to a more hospitable atmosphere. And so begins the wait for Insex Fat Camp 3.
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OT monitors Hazel’s dalliance with the Janitor, and decides she is no longer worthy of the comforts of the cage. She is confined to the cold cement floor. Her toes and thumbs bent back to the shackles. Her arms and legs hogtied to the Pear locked in her cunt. OT canes the soles of her feet and covers her with a single tail whipping. She is prepared for her departure to the farm as she stares down into the swirling wormhole of water.
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Bella Rossi visits the farm and is instructed in electrical torments. Her subject is crammed into a small hanging cage and readied with the head yoked between the cage bars, the jaw stretched wide to avoid touching a large wired dildo locked in her mouth, at the other end an electric butt rod is buried deep in her asshole to complete the circuit. Thus, we delight watching Bella, a blossoming sadist, terrorize the caged cunt.
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Hazel Hypnotic

High in the rafters she is not alone. Mud-wasps, bats, and flies buzz and swop about her. But she labors also, the sweat forming maddening, tickling, rivulets that drip off the trembling labia. She must hold her legs spread – the apparatus that clutches her (gibbit) is engineered so as the legs grow weaker she impales herself on a cone shaped spike stretching her vulva. To overcome this splitting fatigue she discovers that a rhythmical spreading of her legs is less tiring. Diabolically, the machine that torments her also is her ecstasy.
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The vapors rising from the accumulator scream tank envelops the Throne’s new morsel. Now caressed and infused with its insidious lust her mind dreams the horrors of all those who have sat upon the Throne. She is jarred awake by the disembodied voice of her liege. Speaking through his tablet he lets her know that he will be back in a day. In the meantime he activates a sound generator that is converted into electrical pulses connected in her neither world. Thus over great distances he is ever present — like spooky actions at a distance.
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The janitor cleans many warehouses but there’s only one that he fantasizes about. He calls the people he works for “freaks” but he’s starting to realize he’s really a “freak”, himself. Last week she was in this cage, but this time her head is locked between the cage bars and a metal head harness (branks, scolds bridle) holds her mouth agape. He cannot resist this improvised cunt hole. It will have to do for he cannot ply the slither tube. It is plugged shut and padlocked by a contraption with petals that are cranked wide inside her love hole (Pear).
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