49 begins Her preparations for the audience, puts on makeup, the collar around Her neck helps to create the right contrast.

It’s amazing how well she deals with the tight collar that freezes her head.
The wonderful dance is stopped for a beautiful tie, the arms are tightly tied, the body is beautifully exposed, isn’t she beautiful?

The audience waits, gives directions and warms up.

In part 2
This horny girl is now placed on a metal frame, fastened with leather belts. Pearly juice glistens as she climbs to the top and then down.
Falling head down, PD and the audience won’t let her rest, she’s constantly being fucked, touched, looked at from every possible angle, the audience seems to be happy as much as 49 is trying to slow down.

Pd, seeing that she won’t last long, gives her the opportunity to use a strappado, also known as corda, to support herself.
After the slowdown, we are waiting for the next acceleration of the action to see how 49 will cope, part2.

The audience demands more and more, hence. parts 2 and 3 of the livefeed.
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He spied her, hot and young and rash, And trussed her, goose-like, hands and feet. He taped her mouth and ripped her dress.

To probe and carve her like a meat. Driven like half-maddened beasts, The bulk of men act out of haste. 
But slowly binding her, he thinks.

That Girl is an acquired taste. Gleaming pussy, gaping cunt His due reward, fresh from the hunt. With instruments of steel and chrome.

He examined his new prize he owned. He trained his doggie with his touch. And fucked her with his favorite lunch.
Sausage seasoned with a girl. And ripened female for dessert. He filled her with his fingers first.

Up to the knuckles, nothing worse Then slipped inside her past his thumb And troubled her and made her come. And so he saved the best for last An apéritif of Girl, what less?

He bit her on her pearly ass And striped her red with cane and lash. Her parted thighs, her rose-bud flesh.

He ripped and gnawed and tore and gnashed She squealed and begged. She cried, implored – Both man and girl, entrapped in cord.
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Exclusive live feed footage of the high-strung 822 in full attitude. Whatever PD wants, she resists, fighting him to the end. Sulky and hot, she whimpers and whines but takes it all because, what can she do while wrapped in all that rope? Clothespins bite into her breasts and nipples. Her virgin ass takes a plug. Add to that a caning, hot wax, a single-tail, and breath play. Her toughest test of all is her apology at the end, though anger simmers in 822’s eyes. She’s one pissy bitch.

822 lies on the floor with black tape over her eyes, gagged, her arms bound behind her back, and feet tied to a metal ring in the floor. She’s wearing silver spiked platforms, lace thigh highs, and a tight dress pulled up to show her underwear. She’s made to sit up. A nose hook pulls her head backward. A dental gag forces her mouth open. The tape is pulled off her eyes and a mirror brought before her. Bratty to the core, she refuses to look at herself, taunting PD.

He binds her thighs to her shoulders and plunges a dildo in her mouth, then her cunt, inflating it. She’s forced to say, “I am a pig.” Off come her shoes. The hose are torn at her feet. Clamps on her nipples are attached to her toes, then each toe wrapped. Clothespins go on earlobes, toes, breasts and nipples.

Now standing, drool wets her chin. A crotch rope holds her up on her toes. Her neck is tied to her knees. It’s her first experience in ass play, and she gets a plug up that hole, strapped in place. Her breasts are wrapped and her nipples lubed. After the first tube is suctioned on a nipple, 822 becomes the bitch from hell. Her eyes burn with hatred. One leg is hoisted up. After throwing a tantrum, she’s gagged. Both of her nipples end up suctioned even after all the fuss.

She’s laid on the floor, one thigh tied to her shoulder, the other one pulled up into the air. Red wax streams over her inner thigh and nipple. The cane comes out, targeting her foot, calve, ass, backs of thighs, breasts, and nipples. A single-tail nips at her.

Tied to a chair, a plastic bag goes over her head. When her pussy is caned, she goes hysterical, gasping for air when the bag is loosened. A vibrator goes at her clit. The bag goes over her head again, but she is soon too hard to handle. So 822 is bent over a rail, her legs spread, and her wrists tied to her ankles. A flogging begins. Slowly, word by word, she’s made to apologize to everyone for her attitude. She sits quietly at the end, though it’s very clear she’s not at all sorry.
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John never did get it. The sexual stuff, I mean. Like how I wanted him to tie me up. How I wanted to be helpless. I wanted him to use me, use my “holes”, all of them, for his gratification. Put anything you want inside of me, I said to him. Treat me dirty.

When we first got married, he tried a few things with me. But then he got disgusted, saying I was crazy. A pervert.

John has no idea what I’m doing this weekend. He’s gone for three days on a business trip. I’m on the train to New York.

I have my instructions.

A friend made the arrangements for me. She’d been a collared slave several years ago, so she had some contacts, some people she trusted.

I feel sick. My hands are shaking. I hit the bathroom for the third time since I left home. But I keep imagining my hands bound, my legs bound also, spread wide. I fantasize, hearing a voice in my mind telling me that I’m nothing but a toy, something kept for sexual amusement. I’m a prisoner. I’m to be kept as long as I satisfy. And he kneads my breasts, twisting my nipples. He plunges inside of me.
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He thinks of the Insex set as an autopsy room, where bodies are laid out, sliced, and cracked open. He thinks of the show as vivisection, as a method of discovery, every ounce of female flesh – a book. And her hair falling down about her throat, her painted lips and eyes, the endless fabric of young skin, her limbs, fingers, hair, cunt – a library.

He studies her. He tests her endurance during the first hour with metal, the next hour with wrap after wrap of rope, and for the third hour, rubber. He weighs her down, ties her body into knots, encases her, then relents. After he is finished with the first torments, he begins.

She is determined to survive the removal of layers, the loss of skin, the dissection of her outer layers. This is how he searches for that which he can not help but desire. Her.

The gentle slope of her shoulders when her arms are bound back. Her eyes moist, like she’s a lake, an ocean, spilling out, overflowing, influenced not by him, or any man on earth. She is under the influence of the moon.
Her cunt goes wet with wanting, the expectation of ropes. Her breasts are wrapped, those insatiable nippled fruits, prepped for their ordeal. They grow livid as the seconds pass, as the pressure grows, as the weight of her body hangs, and her purpled breasts are wrung dry.
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Sabrina often expresses how she seeks sexual adventure. It is NO coincidence that she yearns for this experience in the daemon world of Insex.Placing her on the alter of the BDSM warp drive will reveal the depths of her longing. It is a journey that immerses ones body and mind in a maelstrom of hormon waves.

She crossed the Rubicon and NOw stands demurely. Sabrina is instructed to strip and throw her cloths into a garbage can. An ample foreboding of what is to come.

It quickly proceeds to a truss on the mattress. While spooning her, she is impelled to massage the mac’s genitals while he throttles her neck, squeezes her tits and humps her warm lithe throbbing body.

He next instructs her to bend over a tee bar and lock herself in handcuffs.

An important training technique: instruct it to put itself in bondage – a simple iPhone message while one is away. She doesn’t kNOw when you are coming back. It’s a nice abandonment piece. As if going to a wedding, she chooses a long flower printed dress for this occasion.
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He thinks of the Insex set as an autopsy room, where bodies are laid out, sliced, and cracked open. He thinks of the show as vivisection, as a method of discovery, every ounce of female flesh – a book. And her hair falling down about her throat, her painted lips and eyes, the endless fabric of young skin, her limbs, fingers, hair, cunt – a library.

He studies her. He tests her endurance during the first hour with metal, the next hour with wrap after wrap of rope, and for the third hour, rubber. He weighs her down, ties her body into knots, encases her, then relents. After he is finished with the first torments, he begins.

She is determined to survive the removal of layers, the loss of skin, the dissection of her outer layers. This is how he searches for that which he can not help but desire.

Her.

The gentle slope of her shoulders when her arms are bound back. Her eyes moist, like she’s a lake, an ocean, spilling out, overflowing, influenced not by him, or any man on earth. She is under the influence of the moon.

Her cunt goes wet with wanting, the expectation of ropes. Her breasts are wrapped, those insatiable nippled fruits, prepped for their ordeal. They grow livid as the seconds pass, as the pressure grows, as the weight of her body hangs, and her purpled breasts are wrung dry.

He is machination, hooks and pulleys, chain and rope. He is scalpels and tongs. He is forceps groping, grasping folds of flesh, mounded flesh – Her. He sucks her fluids, her scent of sex and want. He drinks her. His fingers dive inside of her, manipulate breasts. He splits her in two from her waist to her chin and begins a rapid excoriation of muscle and bone.
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He thinks of the Insex set as an autopsy room, where bodies are laid out, sliced, and cracked open. He thinks of the show as vivisection, as a method of discovery, every ounce of female flesh – a book. And her hair falling down about her throat, her painted lips and eyes, the endless fabric of young skin, her limbs, fingers, hair, cunt – a library.

He studies her. He tests her endurance during the first hour with metal, the next hour with wrap after wrap of rope, and for the third hour, rubber. He weighs her down, ties her body into knots, encases her, then relents. After he is finished with the first torments, he begins.

She is determined to survive the removal of layers, the loss of skin, the dissection of her outer layers. This is how he searches for that which he can not help but desire.
Her.

The gentle slope of her shoulders when her arms are bound back. Her eyes moist, like she’s a lake, an ocean, spilling out, overflowing, influenced not by him, or any man on earth. She is under the influence of the moon.

Her cunt goes wet with wanting, the expectation of ropes. Her breasts are wrapped, those insatiable nippled fruits, prepped for their ordeal. They grow livid as the seconds pass, as the pressure grows, as the weight of her body hangs, and her purpled breasts are wrung dry.

He is machination, hooks and pulleys, chain and rope. He is scalpels and tongs. He is forceps groping, grasping folds of flesh, mounded flesh – Her. He sucks her fluids, her scent of sex and want. He drinks her. His fingers dive inside of her, manipulate breasts. He splits her in two from her waist to her chin and begins a rapid excoriation of muscle and bone.
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Ensuite la torture commence le salaud passe une roulette dentelee sur tout le corps de la victime, il allume deux bougies et ils lui font couler la cire chaude de partout sur son jolie cul et sur tout le dos, apres une fois sec, ils la nettoient a l’aide de brosses bien hard! Et ce n’est pas finit ils iront meme par lui fourrer une longue brosse dans la chatte, ensuite fabienne la chiennasse la detache, la retourne et lui pompe le clito avec un “aspi venin” et lui claque quelques coups fouets, la nana hurle de douleur et de plaisir, elle est aux anges! Mots de cles: boutique sm, domme, esclave, fesrouge, fetich, gorean, hogtied, insex, maitresse, menottes, ponygirl, slave, sm, soumis, soumise, soumission, submissive, teens perverse, tit torture, torture, Fabienne SM.
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Such beauty and charm returns to the studio. But there is a surprise waiting for her — nothing that she knows about. A resident 101 waits in the shadows bound in the latex straight jacket — a rubber hood that only has a mouth hole. She’s mounted to a table; her head locked in a hole. We call it the Gimp table. This will be the final act. Against this backdrop PD can now take his time and relish the lovely offerings of a flexible, limber, lithe Woman.

The piece continues from Mystic Molly #1 where we see her hanging from a box tie with her toes pulled up and clamped to her labia. Pd must be channeling the Kinbaku grandmaster Nureki Chimuo (濡木痴夢男) 1930-2013. In the tradition of naming the system of bindings — we will call the central most dramatic tie The diamond Cradle Suspension. Foot note: PD speaks of his fondest memories returning to Japan to meet the creator of the site that inspired Insex. Osada Steve.
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He thinks of them as turkeys.To him these girls are nothing more than meat. He sees himself as a hunter, a man who loves fresh meat. And so it begins. They are naked, his girls. There are three of them. He has them in his hunting cabin. Their arms are bound behind their backs, their hands taped. They are gagged with tubing held in place with cable ties. A few feet of chain run from neck to neck, so that they are tethered to one another.

He sits. He tells them about a turkey shoot. As he talks, he assembles his gun. Their little cries and whimpers escalate. Who could have known? One minute you are just walking your dog or sipping coffee in your home. And the next thing you know, you are naked. And he has a gun. And there is really nothing else to do, is there?

When he tells you to run. You run like hell.

He drags them outside and unchains them and starts spewing out pellets, scaring them up good. After all, he wants to be challenged. He’s looking for sport, just a little fun. They run through the woods all in a flurry, screaming, squawking. Open season on girl.

The blond is the first to drop. He takes the others down too, the brunette and the black-haired girl. The marks of paintball drip down their soft skin in red trails. It is quiet in the woods. Their bodies lie still, white, silent.
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Betty made the call; she wanted to come back. It was a great coincidence. We were working on designing and fabricating metal restraints. We had several pieces ready to go and Betty will be the guinea pig to try one out.

Two inch by one quarter inch steel strap was fashioned into a fiddle. Then a leg spreader was designed to lock on to the ankles.

We made sure there was an attachment point in the middle of the leg spreader. Now she is flipped around like a frog by attaching the fiddle to the spreader. In order to fuel the anticipation and tease, her panties stayed on for now. Her bum cheeks are nicely soiled by wiggling around on the dirty garage floor. This will be a nice contrast to the red welts that the cane can paint.

She was just threatened with the cane. Betty is a very temperamental girl. Tears rolled out of her eyes at the mere site of the magic wand. We only had to tease her with it.

The watery flow of ice melting under the soles of her feet could not match the flow of torment from her eyes.

She needs to rest now – let’s put her in the cathedra. While Betty catches her breath we will apply the chicanery: butterfly pump gag, electrical tape, castration bands and suction tubes for her nipples and clitoris; clamps to splay the innies. Finally the electrical charged speculum squeezing the Grafenberg bulb.

Ahhhh – the peal jam dripping from her vulva(1) is the icing on the cake.
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What’s your name? Stephanie. How old are you? 34. Where you from? From Ireland. How much do you weight? 110 lb. How tall are you? 5ft 9in. What size dress do you wear? size 6.

What’re your measurements? 34, 24, 34. What size cup: C. What’s you schooling? Two years of college. What do you do now? I work as a freelance model. Have you worked as a bondage model? Never.

Have you ever done bondage with a boy friend? Never. Have you seen the pictures of the stuff we do here? I sure have. What was your reaction to them? It was a new experience. I’m open to challenges. Take off your shoes please.
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