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Added: August 5, 2018 |
Category: Submission
I ask her name. “It’s short for Synesthesia”, she says, and pauses, looking up at me. I can tell she’s just itching to provide the definition, therefore that I play along and ask. She says it signifies the blurring of these senses. She is thinking smelling colors and feeling seems. I’ve got a different combination of senses planned.The difficult edge of the wooden horse moves painfully into her cunt as she struggles and her crotch conveys the entire weight of her body. She attempts to carry out, however, the cane draining her buttocks and breasts brings tears welling up nearly instantly. Shortly after, she’s stretched upon her toes from ground to ceiling and then wrapped so tight that the pressure forces her bloodstream to the vulnerable flesh, which makes skin in those regions sensitive and tight. Tiny clips using serrated teeth to bite into and maintain their grip as weight following weight is inserted. Even a vibrator wedged between her legs performs its function and also a crude combination of pain and pleasure starts to play out in her physique. She squeezes her thighs together and squirms. A teardrop rolls down her cheek. She doesn’t know whether to come or cry. It’s not textbook synesthesia, possibly, but it’s great enough for me. |