My mouth

He and Mister Vice Grip Hands are back. Today, they’ve brought this funny shaped table they strapped me to. It was tilted up and back and diagonal. It seems like it made sure every hole I have was crotch level to them. The padded back was purple and plastic looking, like a marbelized bowling ball. It has lambswool lined straps and hook and eyes lining the majority of all four sides.

They clamped my nipples and chained them to the eye bolts. The most interesting time was when I was upside down, and the belt they used on my thighs and breasts made me scream over and over. Mister Vice Grip Hands also had an affinity for flogging my breasts. When he finally succeeded in whipping the clamps off my nipples, they were raging sore and he sucked them mercilessly, while plugging my bottom holes with vibrating dongs. I came so hard because my lover was using my mouth chokingly deep. The steady stream of drool on to the floor and streaming into my long hair was the result of their tag team efforts to control my mouth.

He told me not to interrupt, to control my curiosity. That’s the last time I will say, “Oooh… what’s that?”