Bongacams Se's Profile

Languages: English

Location: ask me :)

Body Decorations: no ;)

Smokes/Drinks: yes/no

Interested In: Women, Men, Couples, Trans

Age: 18

Body Type: Slim

Bongacams Se - I looked a little more than what you would do with her.

A skirt that let her legs flop a little from the waist, rich red stockings that left her legs open, high heels. Badly fitting blouse that let her know with a wink that it was a white blouse. And the most dangerous item of all, a hairbrush. I see it, see it, baby. I saw it as she used the bathroom, lathering up the floor, her fingers gliding up her back. Staying in my car for a minute, I opened the trunk and pulled out a pair of buzz cut hairbrushes. She had stopped breathing for a second or two by now, her hands on the steering wheel, the neck crunching harder against the steering wheel. In the trunk was a long thick length of soft rope. I pulled the ends together, broke the ends apart and, in the grass, the hot tears that had been welling up in her eyes, she let out a yelp. She had been electrocuted. When we got home I made her dress up in her little parlor girl outfit, draping myself over the back of her couch, spreading the damp gauzecloth over it so that the shocks from the electrocutions would run over the back of her thighs. She did this because she knew that that was how the electric chair would bring her orgasm. She opened the door to her bedroom and took off her skirt, then her panties. She wore the stockings and the garter, but it was the bracelets she pointed to that had gotten the most applause. These, she pointed out, were the same bracelets that she had worn when she was a cheerleader and they looked as if she had been hit in the crotch with them. She wasn't sure if she had been conscious with those.

The shock from the electrocutions had startedle her, but she hadn't given into the pleasure of the pain or the humiliation. She had accepted the pain, even if it was the ache of over a century of sexual and emotional abuse. "Go to sleep, angel," I said. "We will discuss your punishment in bed tonight. Tonight, it seems that your punishment should be even worse than death." She didn't dare turn her head, but I shoved her to the bed. She laid there heavily sedated, a worn pair of garter and stockings. Nothing to her, just a pair of holes in her ass. After a while I took a cotton ball, slowly drew the warm acidic liquid from her buttocks, applied it to one cheek and then the other, pouring it over both cheeks. She was writhing beneath me, the expression of pleasure on her face very apparent. I ignored her discomfort and continued, not allowing her time to adjust. I never stopped until I had an acidic solution on her cheek first, then pouring it over the searing welts on her cheeks. I stopped and kneaded them, washing them with a stiff cloth. She knew better than to refuse me, but the crowd had dispersed, and she had little choice. I stitched the wounds shut and smoothed the healed skin before proceeding. After some time I determined she was sufficiently "wounded up." After giving her a few seconds to regain her composure, I spread her ass cheeks apart and applied a little more pressure. The juices from her pussy were already running down the inside of her thighs.

Now I used a vibrator to "try again" with her. This time I turned the pressure slightly down and rotated the butt plug in and out of her ass until it was within her ass. I repeated this a couple of times, and then turned it slightly inward and began the twist and pull on her clit with the clit wrench. She began to moan again, very loudly, and this increased my strength. I increased the speed, and my room with the vibrator. The more movement I did the further back and forth, the closer she came to an orgasm. With repeated, and probably risking injury to her, I "ticked" off the vibrator. I released her, and untied her. I slid down and lay on the bed. I ran my palm over my swollen labia and stretched them between my fingers. I began to unbutton her blouse. I pushed the buttons until there were no more buttons, and then I pulled the soft, milky white silk from her body. I slipped my thumbs into the front opening of her bra, cupping her breasts in my hands. She knew what she wanted, and she wanted it badly. As I began to unbutton her blouse, she raised her hand to instinctively prevent me. The threat was there for her to feel, somewhere in the room, if she were lucky..

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