Bound to a long bench, and with her legs tied to a bar to spread them far apart, her master enjoys looking over her work, slapping her legs and pussy to get it ready for the stiff dildo fucking. She slides it insider her slave’s shaved pussy, and fucks it with the gusto of a 18 year old man. Her pussy is so abused

Enough of this missionary abuse: Master loves variety, and so she wraps her slave up completely with plastic wrap as she is helplessly bound standing up. Master looks over her work and whips her before making her bend over and stuffing her from behind with the strap-on. As you can see, Master really enjoys this position

She awoke to find me watching her.  The preparations had been
completed and now I just needed my captive ready to experience
them.   She said nothing as she rose to a sitting position.  She
raised her hands to softly touch her breast and winced and gasped
at the pain.  She looked at me now, quite calmly, and there was
no fear or submission in eyes but neither was there the burning
defiance that had been there before. “Well”, she rasped, her
throat quite sore, “what do you intend to do with me now ?”.
“The first thing is to get some water into you”, I said.  She
raised her hands to accept the canteen from me. “I think not”, I
said as I went behind her.  “Raise your head and open your
mouth”, I commanded, and when she did so I began to pore a little
into her mouth as I stroke her throat and then dripped some onto
her lips, then dripped a little water onto her hot cheeks and
forehead, behind her ears and onto her closed eyes and gently
spread the fluid around, with a small amount into her mouth
between each other stop. Then I poured a liberal amount into her
hair and into a towel I draped as gently as I could across the
back of her neck, and finally wet a cloth and ran it over the
veins in her forearms and opposite her elbows.  “I had thought to
put it in a dog bowl and let you lap it up when you got thirsty
enough, but I’m glad that wasn’t necessary.  I suppose  you’re
hungry ?”, I asked.  “Ravenous”.  I’d brought some fruit, which I
allowed her to take in her hands to eat.  “So, slave, are you
ready to play some more ?”, I inquired.  “None of this has seemed
much like play so far”, she answered.  “Perhaps not.  Are you
ready to proceed ?”.  “No”.  “Good.  Unfortunately for you, it
will happen anyway”, I told her.  She sort of smiled, and said,
“So my consent isn’t required.  What a surprise”.  I slipped a
pair of leather mittens over her hands and secured them, locked a
handcuff around one wrist, then cut the nylon cord and quickly
seized her wrists and pulled them behind her. Surprisingly, she
didn’t offer any resistance, which partly thrilled and partly
disappointed me.  I blindfolded her before unchaining her feet
and applying some shackles.  I wasn’t about to be taken in by her
current passivity, which was not submission but only a lack of
resistance. If she was waiting for a chance to act, she wasn’t
going to get one. I pulled her to her feet, then placed her her
high heels by them and told her to slip them on; she offered some
marginal resistance to my guiding her feet into the shoes, but
put no real effort into it.  I put a leash around her neck and
led her out of the tent.  When I got her to the apparatus, I ran
a chain from each side of the apparatus to an ankle before I
removed the shackles, then drew each ankle apart until she was
standing with her legs spread and fastened by short chains while
her hands were locked behind her back.  The leash I fastened to a
pole extended above her head; it hung loosely but would prevent
her from sitting or laying down.

Since this formidable female was now completely helpless, I could
have safely removed the blindfold, but I thought better of it.
We had lots of time, she was completely helpless and could not
possibly get free, so I could afford to wait and let her think
about what I was going to do to her.  She was probably imagining
techniques so cruel that even I wouldn’t employ them.  I
certainly hoped she was, perhaps I could get her to tell me what
those techniques might be; one should always have something to
aspire to. I didn’t say anything, I just watched her stand there,
helpless.  As time creeped by, her squirming and testing of the
restraints indicated the tension was getting to her.  Finally,
she said, “So do you have something for me ?”. “In due time,
slave”, I replied. She fidgetted a little more. “You’re trying to
get it up, right ?”, she asked, “Jesus, we’ll be here all summer
waiting for that miracle”.  I walked over and stood behind her.
“Really, slave, I’m hurt.  You have so little respect for me that
you think I can be provoked into premature action”, I said.  Now
speaking softly into her ear, I told her, “You can’t move me,
Patricia, not with lust, and not with anger.  Your marvelous
intelligence, your wonderful command of language, your charms and
sensual skills, none of these will help you, they can no more
affect me than your impressive physical strength affects these
chains.  You are completely helpless, there is nothing that you
can do or say that will alter your fate in the slightest.  I will
determine what happens to you, how it happens, when it happens.
You have no say in this, and absolutely no control.  It’s your
body, it’s your life, but it’s my decision”.  I put my hands on
her shoulders; they were knotted with tension.  “Are you really
in such a hurry to be hurt again ?”, I asked, as I began
caressing her bare back. “You’ve no place to go and nothing to do
but to experience what I want you to feel”, I told her, my hands
now gently fondling her buttocks.  I reached below them and began
to stroke her between the legs; she trembled a bit and shifted her
feet but wasn’t trying to evade the touch.  “Not so hard to find
moisture in the desert, is it, Patricia ?”, I asked.  She didn’t
answer.  Her head was moving slightly and her lips were parted
but she not giving any willing responses.  I kept one hand
working her vagina while I put the other under her head and turned
it to me.  I started kissing her neck and face; my hand on her
throat felt the moan before it escaped from her lips.  I kissed
her mouth, softly and quickly, then went back to the circuit of
her face and neck, stopping occasionally at the mouth.  As she
was not trying to pull away, I released my grip on her neck; she
didn’t move and I continued to kiss her face and neck and mouth.
I moved my free hand to her breast and very, very gently stroked
her nipple.  She gasped a little but didn’t move.  I kissed her
on the mouth, holding the kiss.  She neither resisted nor
responded.  I kissed her mouth again, while the hand in her
pussy sent a finger probing inside her vagina.  She moved her
mouth away but I followed and locked my lips to hers and she
began to return my kiss.  As we kissed I again gently stroked her
nipple and I felt her react, not entirely in pain.  She was quite
moist now and her hips were moving to increase the friction
between my fingers and her vagina.  She was kissing fervently now
and when I broke from her mouth to kiss her neck and face her
moans were now free and unselfconscious and I felt the heat in
her neck and throat, a heat not deriving from the setting desert
sun.  I removed the blindfold so she could see the sunset, though
as she pressed against me, rubbing her back into my chest and her
head against mine as we continued to kiss each other, her eyes
were open only briefly.  As darkness settled around us she was
thoroughly aroused.  She rubbed her buttocks against my crotch
and said, archly, “It seems we have our miracle”.  “Would you
like me inside you ?”, I asked.  “YES”, she said, in a cry that
was partly shouting and partly laughing.  “Yes, yes, please
HURRY !”, she demanded.  “Slave, if you get what you want this
weekend, THAT will be the miracle”, I said as I stepped away
>from her. “OHH, YOU BASTARD, YOU MONSTER”, she shouted as her
body shook and she stamped her feet. “HOW DARE YOU TREAT ME THIS
WAY !  HOW COULD YOU DO THIS YOU SEXLESS IMPOTENT CREEP – I HATE
YOU – I’LL KILL YOU”, she screamed.  She went on at some length,
screaming at me as she writhed and stamped.  She was trying
desperately to close her legs, but the chains wouldn’t give; I
was hoping she wouldn’t break anything as she pulled at the chains.
She was straining her arms to get down there, but even if she
could have reached that far the thick leather mittens would have
prevented her from getting a finger where it could do any good.

She stayed suspended for a while, and then I lowered her sweet helpless body on a bench, keeping her wrists tied together. She was fully naked and the flower between her hips called for attention. I stood above her, enjoying the powerful position. Then I took my already stiff cock and gave her a taste of her master’s pre-cum. I did not want to finish in her mouth, so I decorated her anal passage and started poking her moist cunt.

The Copenhagen Fetishclub goes highly recommended – check Manifest.eu for details on their parties and more info !

Welcome to ManiFest!

The danish fetish crowd meets 7-9 times a year, to share kinky fantasies, to flirt, dance, and meet like-minded friends. You are invited to join the party …

ManiFest is a lustfull alternative to the everyday mainstream culture, with all its sexual double-standards, hypocracy and superficiality. We celebrate freedom, flirtation, hedonism and ecstacy. We manifest our inner selves, our hidden fascinations and sensual visions. Fantasies about fetishism, seduction, erotic role-playing, cross-dressing, body art, exhibitionism
and erotic dominance are made real!

We are a club for fetishists, but our members come from many different sexual subcultures; voyeurs and exhibitionists, swingers, BDSM players, drag queens and kings, transvestites and transsexuals, goths, gays, lesbians and bisexuals, techno-ravers, cyberpunks and modern primitives. Experienced players as well as enthusiatic beginners of all sexes and persuasions, make ManiFest a melting pot of sexuality and a playground of intimacy.

All are welcome, but we do have some demands and rules:
Everyone must perform a good and respectful behaviour towards others.

Everyone must follow our DRESSCODE:
Leather, PVC, Latex, Rubber, Drag, Trans, Erotic lingerie & Extreme sexual expressions.
You will not be admitted if you do not comply to the dresscode. No streetwear, cotton, blue jeans, etc. And we love when our members are creative, personal and original in designing their fetish outfits!

Each party has an underlying theme, for inspiration and erotic challenge, which not necessarily has to be followedIn some cases the dresscode is broadened according to the theme; please check the calendar and the newsletter.

ManiFest encourages passionate flirt, extreme desire and open playfulness. Many members love to look and show off, and to enjoy sex and fetish play in front of others. It is of course totally up to each individual, whether you want to look or not – or if you want to show off and play.

Freedom, desire and mutual respect are important keywords for ManiFest.

Failure to comply with the rules, written or unwritten, can lead to banishment from ManiFest.

Each party contains several zones, including a pulsating dancefloor, a well-assorted bar, cafe tables and chill out areas. We also have a well-equipped playroom area with bondage- and fetish-furniture, as well as a darkroom where anything can happen …

Photography is not allowed at ManiFest! This is to respect many of our members’ wishes for anonymity and discretion. If, on rare occasions, ManiFest is photographing for our homepage or other media, displays will be posted at the entrance, and no-one will be photographed against their wishes.

ManiFest has over 2000 members………..

We are looking forward to seeing you too…?

Come, my dear, don’t hide your delights from me under these clothes. You are a true beautiful lady, you deserve much more than these plain rags I’ll show you something. Here you are Now, with your nipples clamped and hands tied, I can control you as I want and ravish your almost royal-looking hole with a strapon dildo on my leg

She was suspended naked, like a butterfly caught in her flying moment. I aimed at maximum deprivation, though I did not gag her mouth. I had plans for that orifice, too. I played with her nipples for a while, rocking her like a child which was to be put to sleep. She stopped trembling for a while, and then I started the drill. Both her mouth and twat felt that huge fat rubber thing

Now I brought the whip down on her breasts, and her screams rose in volume and pitch.  As the leather cracked across her soft skin she began mingling offers in with her invective, and as the network of stripes grew on her chest the number and variety of open offers became quite impressive.  But I still hadn’t heard from this proud lady the things I wanted to hear, and as hot as her screams of agony and offers of ecstasy where making me, she was going to say them before the torture stopped.

I considered telling her what she could say – it seemed as if her pleas of “I’ll do anything you want” and “What is it you want ? Tell me what you want ?” were soliciting such input – but decided that would spoil the purity of the moment.  “I’LL BE YOUR SLAVE – AHHHHH – I’LL BE SUCH A GOOD SLAVE – OWWWWW – I’LL BE YOUR SLAVE FOREVER – EEEEYY – AAAH – OWWWOOHH – EGH-GGH – I’LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT, MASTER, OH PLEASE TELL ME WHAT I CAN DO – OHHHRRRRGGH – OH PLEASE MERCY PLEASE – EEYOOOW – YOU’RE KILLING ME, I CAN’T STAND IT PLEASE HAVE MERCY – AAAAAA – FUCK SUCK TOILET WHATEVER, TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT OF ME, PLEASE – OWWWW – PLEASE – PLEASE – I KNOW YOU DON’T WANT ME DEAD, I’M NO USE TO YOU DEAD – EEECHHH – YOU’RE KILLING ME – OH GOD – OOOWWWW – GODDAMMIT WHAT DO YOU WANT YOU BASTARD JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT – YES YES YES – SHIT! – AAAHH – PLEASE MASTER I’M SORRY PLEASE I’M SO SORRY”. 

At that I knelt beside the sobbing woman. Her face was bright red beneath the tears and in places mucus that covered her face, much of her body was flushed and most of it crisscrossed with flaming welts, she was bathed in sweat all over, and that part of her dripping hair that wasn’t plastered to her head was covered with the sand and dirt that had stuck to it as she flailed her head about in the dirt.  She was quite beautiful. I lifted her head up and looked through the veil of tears into her eyes and saw, for now at least, no defiance.  “You see, Patricia, dear slave, you should have remembered your manners”, I told her, “you just had to say you were sorry”.  When I gently lowered her head she was unconscious.

It would be many hours before she awoke.  I had cleaned her up as much as conditions permitted and carried her into the tent.
Under normal conditions I wouldn’t have taken the risk of fastening that woman’s wrists in front of her, but since her back
was less damaged that her front or sides, suffering only from some scrapes that resulted from her twisting and writhing, she could rest better on her back, if her hands were in front.  The nylon handcuffs that I’d placed on her were not themselves a weapon the way the steel one’s would have been.  Her ankles were chained together and I didn’t think even she was much of a threat to hop up from behind and brain me.

I had no illusions that her willfulness and defiance had ceased permanently.  I wasn’t even certain that she wouldn’t be ready to bite my head off when she woke up.  But it had been a sweet moment when her resistance stopped, a moment to be remembered and enough in itself to make the whole scene a success.  This was of course conditional upon Patricia not killing me before we got out of here. 

I was thinking that even if she did it would almost have been worth it – then realized what pure bullshit that was.  Shit, I thought, I’ve been out in the sun too long while my slave sleeps in the tent.  This was not a part of the plan.  Well, however she’s feeling when she gets up, I thought, and whatever happens before we get out of here, I have some more plans for her and she’s not going to escape them.  I set about preparing for the execution of those plans whenever she awoke.  She would need her strength.

Once a man learns what real power feels like, he will push it as far as he only can. Having given his partner plenty of rough treatment before, he’s here now to spread her folds as wide as her physique only lets him to, exploring her from deep inside. Fastened to the rack, the girl can only produce helpless whining as nasty tools explore her body deeper than anything else. With his hands, heart and face cold as ice, the mean male nearly tears her apart…

Look, they plunge deeper into the world of kink Already far from plain sex, they experiment with another set of bondage gear, the girl gagged and attached to the inflatable bed with her strict partner examining her genitals. The young lady enjoys the submissive positions, just watch terror in her eyes develop into a desperate wish to give everything she has to her master, whatever the cost.

I set up camp, then attended to the slave.  Taking off her pumps,
I saw that she hadn’t suffered any lasting damage, though I don’t
think so could have gone much further.  That suited me, since
if she managed to get loose I didn’t want her going far.  Of
course she was thirsty. Probably hungry, too, since she didn’t
eat any dinner, but it would be a long time before Patricia would
be hungry enough for the hunger to subvert her will.  Thirst would
work a lot sooner. I took a nice long drink while she watched.
“Oh, pardon my manners, would you like some ?”, I asked.  She
just glared at me. Well, it would work eventually, though I
decided now that I’d have to be careful to see to it that she got
some fluids, this woman just might be proud and stubborn enough
to end up dehydrated if she would have to earn her water from me,
which had been my intention.  Now that I knew what a tough
customer she was, my plans would have to be a bit more fluid, so
to speak.

After I’d set up the tent, which I would need for shelter from
the sun, there were six stakes left over, so I staked Patricia
out spreadeagle.  The two extra stakes were placed near her head.
I removed the ball gag, which had done it’s job well, and
Patricia couldn’t get her jaw working immediately, which gave me
time to insert two loops inside her mouth and fasten them to the
stakes on either side of her head before she started telling me off.
I sort of liked it when she did tell me off, but I wanted her to
stay frustrated.  Now she couldn’t move her head, and though she
could make lots of noise – something she wasted no time in proving –
she wasn’t getting out much that was intelligible. I proceeded to
thoroughly explore my prize. I ran my fingers along the inside of
her thighs.  There was just enough slack for me to see her legs
jerk at my touch.  I skipped over her groin and began making
little patterns on her stomach and pinching her sides.  I
hopefully tickled her belly and sides, without result.  “What a
pity you’re not ticklish, PV”.  I cupped her breasts and began to
rub them softly.  She pretended to ignore me, but she was
breathing hard. “Your nipples are so nice and hard, slave”, I
said.  I fingered them softly, then harder.  “I love they way
they stand up”, I said.  I squeezed each nipple hard between my
thumb and forefinger and pulled upwards until her breasts had
stretched as far as they would stretch and Patricia’s shoulders
began to lift from the ground, but both of us were sweating and
she was screaming and squirmimg and she slipped out of my grasp.
I repeated the process a couple times with the same results. Her
nipples were still hard and erect.  “I REALLY love the way your
nipples stand up”, I told her as I reached for my bag.  “Do you
know the Japanese proverb about the nail that stands up ?  By the
way, do you like Japanese bondage ?  Some wonderfully cruel and
imaginative ropework and suspensions in that stuff.  Anyway, we
won’t hammer those pretty nips”, I assured her, as I pulled out
the needle-nose pliers. “AGGHHGGH-NNNN-MMMM”, she said when she
saw them.  I got a good grip on her left nipple and twisted it
hard.  “AAA-YYYYEEE-OOO”, she said, her voice an octave or two
higher than before.  I twisted it again. “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYY !”.
Her face was getting red and I saw the beginning of a tear and I
just had to have it. I put the plier on her right nipple and gave
it a hard 360 degree turn. “EEEEEEEEEEEEOOOWWWWWYYYEEE-
-UGH-ARG-EHH-OOOH”, exploded from her as her head jerked up and
her whole body contracted, all four limbs pulling hard against
their bonds while those precious tears began to trickle out.  I
reversed the pliers, adjusted my grip, and turned it 360, maybe
450 degrees around the other way. She was screaming and bucking,
her ass pounding the hard ground as she pulled at all the ropes.
Her fists were opening and closing as her wrists turned in the
ropes and she tried yanking them side to side when pulling them
straight in proved to no effect, but the stakes holding her
wrists didn’t budge and the tears of pain and frustration were
pouring down her flushed face. I was enthralled by the show of
her red, wet face and heaving chest, and the arms flailing within
their narrow range of movement, so much so that I was shocked
when her heel hammered into the side of my knee. “OW!
SONOFABITCH!”, I shouted as I rolled away and staggered to my
feet, limping about to walk off the pain.  I hoped I could walk
it off; if she’d broken something in my knee the chance of
walking out of this place was pretty thin.  I saw that she’d
pulled the stake holding her right leg out of the ground and was
trying to free the other leg.  Even if she got those strong legs
free it’d be hard for her to get up, since with her head staked
down she wouldn’t be able to turn over so she could use them to
pull the arm stakes up, but I wouldn’t be able to have much fun
with her then. I dove onto her right leg; it was twisting and
thrusting wildly like a loose high pressure hose, she got it
under me and thrust her knee into my crotch and I rolled free and
crawled away gasping for breath. I couldn’t take much time to
recover, though, so I crawled over and got the cattleprod and,
still crawling, pushed it into the spot between and just below
her breasts.  She gasped loudly and convulsed, but kept
struggling, though much less energeticly.  I zapped her right
thigh three times and the leg’s movement was reduced to twitching.
I made it to my feet, though I couldn’t straighten up yet, and went
for the hammer.  I came back as quickly as I could in my bent over
condition. I’d thought of a lot of movies when I considered the
things I was going to do to Patricia, including “The Hunchback of
Notre Dame” – love the boot, been trying to build or buy one, so
far without success – but I’d never cast myself this way.  This
“anything can happen” wasn’t quite the thrill it had seemed.  I
hammered the left stake, which was nearly free, deep into the
ground, then got the right, yanked it till the leg was good and
taut, and hammered it down.  I tapped down the other stakes as a
precaution, and withdrew to the tent to lick my wounds –
figuratively, please, I’m not flexible enough to do so for real
and, anyway, that’s one of the few kinks I don’t have.

When it seemed everything had recovered but my pride, I came back.
Patricia was tugging on the ropes, but without her previous
energy or success.  “You know, slave, when I was a child I had
trouble remembering which one was Quasimodo and which one was
Torquemada.  You may have thought you knew which one I was, but
you were wrong”, I sputtered at her.  She was looking at me like
I was mad, and for the first time I had the pleasure of seeing
fear in her eyes.  Fear in a helpless woman’s eyes always got me
hard.  Unfortunately, I wasn’t as fully recovered as I had
thought, and the experience was not quite as pleasant as usual.
Something else to make her to pay for. I took the horsewhip and
went to lay into her, then stopped long enough to free her head; I
wanted to hear this.  I started on her legs, moving around her so I
could hit the inside as well as the top of her thighs, the tip of
the whip sometime coming very close to but never touching her
labia, then moved up and covered her belly and sides with
stripes.  I skipped over her breasts to work on her shoulders and
to crack the whip into her armpits.  Throughout this she was
screaming and writhing and struggling with renewed vigor.  She
found many things to say to me, but to her credit “I’m sorry”
wasn’t one of them.  The closest she had come to a plea was when
she started shouting “Yes ! Yes !”.  At first I thought she was
getting off on the whipping, but then I realized she had thought
to try our “safeword”. ” ‘Yes’, eh slave ?  Yes, you can have
some more”, I told her, and she went back to questioning my
parentage and family relationships.

Watch as these two explore the darker side of sex with our help. Their games grow nastier with every second. Spread against the dungeon web, the girl struggles with her need to scream out as she gets filled with a thick plastic cock and a real fat dick up her suffering mouth. Working in both holes, the cocks nearly make her faint, her helpless body not falling down only because of the cuffs.

Even if your sex drive as a couple declines through the years, you can throw in some dom-sub spice Watch as these two indulge in some BDSM-inspired fucking, the girl clad in teasing crotchless lingerie and accepting slaps and thrusts and splashes from her mean-looking partner. Her juices started flowing even before he attached clamps to her folds, and after the firm shaft was inside, they brought each other to explosive climax almost instantly.

I went back to my duffelbags.  “I hope you won’t mind,
Patricia, but while you were being dragged off the street , I
broke into your house and found these”, I said as I pulled out a
pair of pumps with very high spiked heels.  The shoes you were
wearing were nice, but a bit too practical for my plans”.  I
pulled her to her feet and removed the handcuffs.  “Put these
on”, I ordered.  “I will like hell – AHHH”.  A tap of the prod to
her ribs knocked her down and took her breath away. It had an
adjustable charge and I’d turned the power down a litte, since it
wouldn’t be much fun if she were too sore to move before we even
got started, but it hurt plenty.  As she sat holding her ribs and
shooting lasers at me with her eyes, I tossed the shoes to her.
“Hey, I like the way this is going so far.  Please keep that
stubborn streak for a while longer”.  She put the shoes on.
“Stand up and turn around”.  She stood up and turned around.
This was getting tame, but I was sure she’d pick her time and act
when she was ready.  I wasn’t quite so sure that I would be ready
when she did, but that was what was had made this such an
exciting fantasy as I conceived it, the fact it was open-ended
and anything could happen.  I put the heaviest duffelbag on her
then handcuffed her wrists behind her, shoved a nice big ball gag
in her mouth with considerable difficulty, which meant it was
just the right size, and replaced the short chain between her
padded ankle cuffs with a 14″ chain. “Just so you don’t get any
ideas about kicking me, slave”, I told her as I closed the
padlocks. “Let’s go for a walk”, I said, gesturing with the
cattle prod and bringing the tip of it a fraction of an inch from
her right nipple as I did, “that way”.

I wasn’t sure how far we’d gone.  It was nearly noon and we’d
been walking since six.  The pace was comfortable enough for me
but Pat had been having problems for the last few hours, and our
progress was frequently halted as she lost her footing and fell.
Waiting for her to make it back up had become irritating and I’d
been helping her up with strokes across the ass from my cane,
which had also proven to be a requirement to keep her moving.  She
grunted a lot and if looks could kill I’d be dead, but looks don’t
hurt and a hard piece of wood lashing her bare buttocks did, so
she kept those high heels going forwards.  It was very hot and I
had been sweating a lot, so at least her falls gave me a chance
to take a swig from the canteen.  It wasn’t that I needed the
water or anything – hell, I could do this all day, really, I could –
but taking the canteen off her neck where it was normally carried
lightened her load so she could get up.  This looked like a likely
spot, far from the road and through enough rocky and sandy
passages to be pretty certain no dirtbikes or offroad vehicles
would showup.  It was so remote that a number of tall cacti were
there unmolested, and the surrounding miles so desolate that few
hikers or campers would ever come there.  We wouldn’t be
interrupted here. “OK, slave, sit and rest”, I said.  I then
proceeded to take all the gear off Patricia.  A couple of hours
ago I’d figured out where on Patricia I could drape the second
duffelbag, along with most of what I’d been carrying, except for
the cane, cattleprod, and what fit on my belt, which included the
keys to her restaints.

These two keep exploring the world of BDSM pleasures. However, this time they went further, the girl clad in a mean-looking hood, a tight collar and sexy black fishnets. Passing through the usual suck-and-spank routine, the guy brought his lover to a state of perfectly submissive bliss. Covering her twat with pegs and fucking the creamy hole still pulsating from the spicy pain was followed by semen filling the mouth of the sub chick.