The journey is beginning. I’m told to sit down on the floor as Master starts out attaching me to a large, utmost steel triangle. My ankles are squeezed painfully into the metal cuffs. I guess people in truth can be big-boned, because my feet are going numb by the time he’s secured the metal collar around my neck and the cuffs on my wrists. That guy asks me to pull my legs out in front of me as far as I can. The pressure on my ankles causes me to wince, and I essay to adjust my neck inside the collar — it’s so tight.
After an hour of this torture, I am released merely long enough to have him pull my legs into a constricting yoga position so buddy can fix my breasts to my ankles. I’m going from one grueling position to one more, and I languish in my own defenseless misery for a while. I am again untied, that time so I can stand, so this Master can handcuff my wrists behind my back, also as put a leather strap connected to a string on a pulley around my neck. I find it is heavy to breathe, and even greater amount difficult to swallow. I stand on my toes to endeavour and relieve some of the pressure, but presently I am asked to spread my legs.
Obediently, I do so now, just only to find this lowers me and makes acquiring air this much greater amount difficult. Stubborn, I resolve to stay with my legs widen for the entire two hours, only moving to turn around and show people my teenaged skin. I hear Master commanding me to bounce up and down to make my tits shake. As I’m doing that I’m told to repeat, "I’m a bondage titty streetwalker." With a red face I do so, still bouncing, till Master has finally finished chuckling at me. I am disgraced. Two hours have passed, and instantly I’m told the real pleasure is ’bout to begin.
My neck is released from the strap and the handcuffs are removed. Presently, Master is tying my wrists and arms forcefully behind my back with a coarse cord. Completing this task, buddy tells me to squat down and take off my sneakers and socks. With my arms virtually useless, that is frustratingly difficult, but I finally persevere. I look up at Master to watch if Bloke is pleased, but have no time, as I’m standing up and having my own dirty socks stuffed in from one side of the kisser to the another. Clear plastic tape is wound around my head to secure the sock gag. Looking devious, Master says that I’ll be receiving a caning. Cringing, I try to prepare myself for what is to come, but in a short time tears are running down my soft cheeks and landing on my supple breasts. I weep out into the gag as fellow strikes me repeatedly on my ass, thighs, and on my tits. I’ve just only had 2 one more canings formerly, so they are still overwhelming. Despite this, I find myself strangely aroused by the end of the flogging.

Format: mp4
Duration: 26:57
Video: 1920×1080, AVC (H.264), 4876kbps
Audio: 121kbps

Video clip size: 987.3 MB