Tiffany Doll Getting Nail Herself With Sex Toy

“Mhhmm.” Megan nodded. A large silicon ball secured into her mouth limited her options for communication to nodding, shaking her head, mumbling and pleading with her eyes. The straps were uncomfortably tight, but what was even more frustrating was the added chin strap; a four-inch piece of leather that helped guarantee she couldn’t maneuver her jaw to spit the gag out. “Good. Maybe you’ll remember it next time you’re thinking about misbehaving.” teens He gave one of her welts a light smack. She winced and nodded again, too busy fighting back tears to even try and speak. “We’ll see. Now go tidy up the bathroom.” He ordered with another snap. Megan obediently trotted off to clean the mess he left during his shower. Not exactly fun, but any step out of line resulted in corporal punishment, and his preferred method was forcing her to kneel and lashing her bottom with either a black cane or leather paddle. That morning had been no exception: he uncuffed her from the bed after his alarm went off and took her to the bathroom for her toilet break. While she was washing up, he fondled her breast and pinched the nipple, pushing her to growl “fuck you” and try running away. She made it one step before he caught her, of course, and thirty seconds later she was face-down with his knee digging into the small of her back and his instrument of pain raining hell on the skin cum of her backside. When finished, he let her lay in the fetal position, sobbing, and took his time binding and gagging her. The man demanded to be gagging referred to as “master” and, even more nauseating, addressed as “daddy”. Calling him anything other than a long string of curses took every bit of willpower, but it was obvious that agitating him would only make things worse. After a Friday night and full Saturday of sadistic torture, she decided to just go through the motions of this sick game, hoping it would create the illusion of docility and present an opportunity for escape once her captors let their guard down. Doing whatever he said seemed like a good place to start, so she pressed on. Megan could bend over, but her hands couldn’t reach more than 12 inches past her torso; her “master” had ensured that when he shackled them to the harness. She was forced to squat as low as possible just to pick the towels up from the floor, and hanging them back on the towel rack proved to be a whole other burden. It was incredibly frustrating how difficult such simple tasks had become. Prior to this hellish weekend, she had been a dean’s list student who successfully balanced a 12-credit semester with a job as a sales associate. Suddenly, she was hardly able to do the basic house work that her “masters” forced, with both hands and feet restrained, and beaten if anything went wrong. On top of that, her boyfriend Austin and best friend Gabby were getting similar treatment in some other wing of the mansion. She hadn’t seen them since afternoon of the day before, when all teen three of them were tied up, gagged and tormented in the living room for several hours before being hauled off to separate corners of the property for further abuse. Their captors kept referring to it as “training”, though none of the unfortunate victims could have fathomed what kind of nightmarish future they were being trained for. oral The thought of her friends being hurt made her want to cry, as did looking into the bathroom mirror and being reminded of her new reality as somebody’s prisoner. Her heart fluttered, and for a moment she couldn’t speak. I ran into Greg Haynes at the convenience store, and he asked me out for a burger at the local drive in. He’d asked me out several times during our senior year in high school, but I’d always turned teen him teens down. After removing the cum gagging soaked pillows he turned the covers back gently picked her up putting her in the bed. Steve started to fuck her hard as I grabbed oral a wash rag to clean my own cock off. Stacey slowly turns her head and looks me in the eye; "Do you know Kristy Demming?" "Fuck! We took off for the docks. As long as the jeans didn’t move, and I couldn’t imagine that they would, it would document cum everything that was about to transpire on the bed from a sideline angle. Uncle Roger snorted. “Really?” he asked.