How To Find Ip On Omegle's Profile

Languages: Español / Little bit English

Location: Colombia

Body Decorations: Tattoo

Interested In: Women, Men, Couples, Trans

Age: 27

Body Type: Fit

How To Find Ip On Omegle - My cock and a huge clit.

Hear after hear, a voice inside of me whispering "Kill me, grind that tight ass of yours." The gag has been removed from my mouth, leaving only gag, nipple clamps and soft-seeming rubber straps around my wrists and neck. I can feel them tickling my skin as you bring them close, then pulling them apart with hard, heavy fingers. I reach down to Him, eagerly devouring the sweet, musky scent His hands leave behind. My heart is a thudding, 'beast', a voice says. Hips high up in the air, glides a light caress over my wetness. "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm", a hoarse moan of contentment begins. I lift my head slightly, eagerly applying more oil to my rosy ass cheeks. "Are you ready to please Me?" I hear You say. Little has been said in the past hour or so. I am! Almost. Beginning to feel the warm rush starting in my cheeks and trickle down. Remarkably, I notice that all the silks in the parlor have faded to nothing, save a small strip of light that hangs in the corner, almost as dark as the curtains. Almost. I notice the velvet pouch on the table, empty but for a single red rose. Not opening it, I notice a single red circle, with a single red rose engraved in small letters across the edge.

If this wasn't a gift, I know I would have been completely at thy mercy. I close my eyes, savoring the sweet scent as it escapes. For one brief moment, I think I will enjoy it. Then, I notice something on the table. I open my eyes and see a chained collar, no strings attached. From around the table, it turns out, comes a small, smooth, black and scarlet leather riding crop. I have to wonder. Is it a horse or a dog? Horses aren't required for riding, but the dogs are cute and cuddly, certainly not shabby. Riding a horse is a skill, like any other. As I wonder, the lighter catches on. A sudden sting, almost a click, moves through my thighs. I open my mouth, hoping you are pleased with my behavior. And I notice, even as I feel the sting, the feverish heat of the heat around my breast. If I keep rubbing, the lighter would not burn fast enough. I murmur, "Please, Master, please," and I close my eyes again. I am very aware, very very VERY aware that the black crop is speeding toward my pussy.

I try to think of something else. To make it just a little more painful, I shift my feet, trying to put the crop between my hips, just enough to give it a tiny bit of movement, but too little. I moan, half in pain, half in pleasure. My pussy feels so wet, my juices almost flowing over it. Even as the hot, punishing sensation runs through me, I AM unable to stop my body from starting a little low, my spine starting to sag a little, my clit softly touching the floor, ever so slightly. Watching the crop dance of rhythm, with no rhyme or reason as to when and where it strikes, makes me ache. I try to think of something else, but my mind is made of the sensations. I am a little more awake now, believe it or not, but it has to be so…I have no idea what I am missing. The pain is exquisite, the pleasure the most intense I have ever known. The burning desire is driving me insane. In my dreams, I see you on your knees, your face flushed, looking down at me as your Master has taught you to look at me completely, with all that belongs to you, without the shame. I feel you squirm beneath me, the small of my back arches a little, my ass pressing against you so sharply. As I feel the blood throb beneath me, I AM put out. By the way, your Master has placed something under your butt, to keep you from flatulence. Surely, that must hurt something..

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