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23 - Cronorgan All the while that these overwhelming waves of sensation electrify every nerve ending in my body, I moan. I moan, and moan, and moan, as loud as a woman giving birth, scrabbling futilely with my feet, trying to gain enough purchase to lever my fulcrum off the narrow impalement on the wooden post. But for all my straining nothing changes. I’m trapped right on top of this thing - tied as artfully as Elionara was, bondage that gives me enough freedom to struggle, but not to help myself. Under Salarin’s precise instructions, first his men made me fold my arms behind my back, and then they roped them tightly to me, cinching me into a complex crisscrossing web that pins my upper arms over my shoulder blades and holds my lower arms together, overlapping horizontally behind me. It is utterly inescapable – I can’t reach even one of the many knots. By means of this carefully knotted harness I hang suspended from a ring high above me, dangling from a rope just long enough that my weight won’t slip far from the post underneath me. Dangling under the alloy ring I’m still in the middle of the wooden frame, where I’ve been since early afternoon, only this time I can’t touch the base of the frame with my toes. The big only point of contact with the ground is where the mass of my torso presses down through my fulcrum against the post. Salarin’s men tied my ankles together too, with a rope that passes through an iron ring in the bottom of the frame. Unlike the earlier “X” shape of my restraints on I now have plenty of slack to kick and struggle with my lower limbs. Should I wish it I could spread my ankles to a width of a couple of feet, but ebony that would be agony, placing my entire weight on my tender sex organs. I can writhe, I can move, I can do everything but lift up my toes bbw to the top of the pillar, which would enable me to go what I desperately want - lifting myself free from my torment. The wooden post between my legs has been coated with a lubricant rendering it almost frictionless. If I exert myself, draining the reserves in my aching muscles even further, I can tense my knees and calves and lift my torso a few inches upwards, gaining a precious movement of relief. But then gravity and the lubricant will inevitably win, and I’ll sink back down right where they want me. I can’t even ease my discomfort by moving my pelvis forwards or backwards to take up a different resting point on the pillar. Because - mounted on top of the post is a large phallus, made of something solid like an iron rod encased in a softer rubbery material, and that phallus is currently buried deep inside my vagina. Salarin’s men suspended me in my ropes and then lowered me onto this object, using it to both fill me and trap me. With the wooden mounting post being so liberally greased I can’t get enough leverage to lift myself off of the huge rubber cock, and when I do manage to temporarily raise my pelvis the friction from the phallus against my nether lips sends such intense stimulation through me that my thighs shudder, I grow weak, and once more I’m where I started. It’s the largest invader I’ve so far had inside my sex. At first I found being stuffed with something so big was bitterly uncomfortable. It felt like it was probing right up to my stomach. But over time I’ve become so sexually aroused that the dildo began to move easily against my slick inner walls. Now I’m struggling more to increase my feeling of friction than to attempt to escape. I feel as if I’m drugged, in a trance, partly from the exhaustion of the torture and gang rape I’ve endured, but also from the steady effect of the things between my legs – the phallus and the other, even crueler device. The second one senses me somehow and when it chooses it vibrates against my clit. Technology can be a terrible thing when used to dispense suffering. Between the two devices I have been kept turned-on for what seems like hours – the vibrator teasing me, pausing and withdrawing from me if I get close to orgasm, and then when I regain too much control over my own body returning to repeat the unbearably tits delightful buzzing. Back when Wagner interviewed me and the Slavers forced me to climax using that cup between my legs, I knew I’d never been so turned-on before. Well it was nothing compared to what’s happening now. My public shaming with the red vibrating cup lasted a relatively short time. This has gone on and on forever. I can feel myself dripping with my own wetness - slipping and sliding on the ginormous phallus that stuffs my sex and makes me feel distended. My vision is blurring with animal lust, and my blood pounds in my ears. I’ve not given much thought to sex before the Rape Run, and certainly didn’t think that with my level head I could be reduced to a state where I was desperate to orgasm, but in my heart masturbation of hearts I know now I would yield willingly to someone who would grant me that relief. The unwanted and involuntary expression of my true sexuality has taken place just as I’d always feared. I have lost control of my own body entirely. I’m breathing heavily. No one has seen him since about big a week before I got this email from him and the reply address comes up as invalid. It’s nice to meet you too!” bubbled Lisa. "Could you really go through with it? "Don't do it again." There are two pools each with a cascading waterfall from the hot tub into the pool,” I tell her. Lois coughed loudly to regain control and said, “Clean yourself up, Harriet. The small woman places her head on his shoulder "so I'm curious as to what you wanted to talk about, so what's upon your mind?" Layla smirked as she raised her hands up above her head, feeling the tightness of the top as it was worked slowly and intimately up over her curvaceous form, revealing flawless dark chocolate skin that Lacy masturbation couldn’t wait to see more of. After this, we were all silent for a while. “Baby girl, go ahead and swallow it. Hysterical despair claims me when I hear his name confirmed, and I scream and scream and scream. Susanna had now dragged Cindy into the room. Jess returned her best friend's smile and spoke again. “Tell me what you are!” “David, I hope you know that when I say that I love you. My nipples were hard and erect, dragging on my clothes, there was a tingle between bbw my legs that I had only ever noticed once before when I had watched two of my furry friends mating in the forest. She slides up me a bit more and my dick angles parallel with our bodies. "need'apish", falling again on the ground as he moved. She saved me from that bitch Shelena once. “Everyone else seems to be occupied and I’ve been lusting tits after you since you walked in.” Just let me get somethin' worked-out with my husband first." It was about the third day that I was there that I noticed one of the men looking down the ebony top of my blouse as he stood next to me explain how to do something. I’m sure the village elders loved that. Dana began to moan in rhythm, and she could feel her vagina begin to compress. Thank you for sharing all the stories about you and your wife. I told him; "I've got to see her no matter what!"