Insex Archives

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Vita heard about insex from her roommate friend. She is a newbie to bondage and figured she would like to give it a try. As pd questions her and begins the scene mindfucking her with a shiny pair of scissors, she sits terrorized as he tells her that he just might cut off her nipples . The tears begin to flow. A posture collar tightens around her long neck making her voice all squeaky and high pitched, next in goes a rubber ballgag with a pump thingy attached to it. She tries to push it out, but that’s not going to happen. He leaves her to sit for awhile in bondage, alone to ponder in horror of the unknown, what will happen next… and this is only the beginning.

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I have to admit, I love my master. I love him for disciplining, teaching, and nurturing me into the bondage slut that I am today. In every moment of my life I long for his approval, wanting so much to hear him say “Good job”, or “I am proud of you”. I have no greater satisfaction then I do in those moments.

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I want to do what I want to do. I don’t need no loud mouth, spoiled brat telling me what to do. I want someone who won’t bitch and moan all the time making me miserable! And I make sure she understands this! I want what I want ! When I decide to spend some time with her, if she complains about anything, I’ll put her aside with the others until she shuts her big mouth up!

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He likes to strap me down in metal. The steel ankle cuffs are tight on the tendons and I’m always surprised they don’t snap under the pressure. Steel is icy cold when you first put it on. And real heavy on the tits. He pulls each tit through a metal bra and clamps them down.

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Saturation. That’s what I crave. I remember a day a long time ago. I was a little girl playing by myself. The shine off the lake blinded. The catcalls of the crows echoed through the trees. I heard a sound in the woods. A shuffling of leaves. And voices, hushed. So I snuck close, tucking myself into a thicket of elderberry. I didn’t know the man or the lady, but he’d tied her face first to a tree. She was naked.

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How could He resist my flesh, savory, tantalizing, still showing the blush of youth? I am leaning forward, my breasts firm but soft, like ripe pears, as though He could sink His sharpened teeth there and juice would dribble to His chin. My wrists are bound and secured behind me to the back of the chair that I sit upon, locking me in position, exhibiting my helplessness.

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The plank of wood is snugly tied to my outstretched arms, I feel its weight on my shoulders and walk gingerly in the high spike heels. He pushes me to the floor, the pressure on my knees and shins is unbearable. At first I remain very still, holding out as long as I can, and then: he begins to command me to move, insulting me, even kicking me as I am tied helpless.

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Big double D tits, long blonde hair and big feet, this California beauty comes to play at insex. She has dreamed of coming to see pd and reveals some of her fantasies. Fantasy’s of being raped and not in control. Pd understands and most definitely will giver her a taste of what being a BDSM slut truly means.

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He broke all of his promises, those to himself, and to her. But what are words? Vacant, thin as paper, a succession of small wounds. “You’ll be a star,” he told her. “A super model.” The photo shoot began like all the others, tedious in its own way. Silken lingerie, corsets pressing the breasts up and mounded. Dreamy skin of a young girl.

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I love power. And I love money. And here I am at the top, the only woman to ever climb this high in the corporate world. And now I wear skirts and blouses that are more expensive than most people’s houses. I never wear a pair of shoes more than once. Power is dearly bought. Freedom is the first to go.

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