The heavy door grates as it slides open. Birdsong can be heard in the background. Daylight shows two figures, a girl, naked, hooded, her hands in black leather mitts and bound tightly up toward her neck. Her body is slim, her flesh young, fresh, tender. The other figure, dressed in black, leads her in by the nipple. A metal box and a wooden bench are in the foreground. The door pounds shut, daylight vanishes. From now on, it’s nothing but gloom
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The memories stagger in upon me chaotically, as in a dream. Insects stinging, drawing blood. My hands, my breasts, trapped in unyielding metal. My movements secured with hooks buried deep inside my body: I am filled, I am owned. I walk like a marionette, with every step the hooks pull with cruelty inside my ass and my pussy. When I am released it is only to be stretched over a log and staked out in the grass; again I am left vulnerable, unable to protect myself from insects, biting my open body. My head secured in place with stakes and a gag. Shrieking as a worm is dangled over my face, crawling into my nose, squirming its slippery flesh over my tongue and my lips. And yet one memory towers above the rest of my torment; he called it the mala mansio…..
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Poor piglet has a long, hard weekend of torture ahead of her. At least she has two other bondage sluts to keep her company and share the suffering. This article is a compilation of the shoots preceding piglet’s live feed at the farm.
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Dairy available here.
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