A latex girl thing

“Well, I see your pussy is wet,” he teased. Slave gave her bondage a rigorous, and foolish, shake with her body and wailed as everything punished her; the sharp points, her bruised pussy, her cramping arms and shoulders, and her poor, pulled tits. “Would you like off that perch, my little bird?”

Slave let out some orgasm-building noises before sounding out a garbled “Yes Sir!” around the ball gag, which caused built-up, clean and clear drool to drip slowly out of the corners of stretched lips, buffing her latex face.

“First, you will have to pass my inspection,” chided Rusty. He came to her left side and squeezed her latex breast, causing her to squirm and peep. He ran a finger up the middle of her back starting just above her ass, causing her to reflexive sit up, causing her to pull back and torture her nipples more.

Rusty stopped when Slave lulled her head back and he saw a tear dribble down her left side from the corner of her eye. As much as he liked to dish it out, and take it as well, and making his wife and this one cry out, he wasn’t a fan of falling tears. He composed himself to keep himself from yanking her completely off and untying her to maintain their ritual. He shut off the perch, depressed and lowered the perch, unhooked the nipple clamps, undid her legs, and picked her up. He made her stand up, finding Slave was very willing to place her legs apart as if her inner thighs were still being stabbed by the those sharp points. He undid her bondage, and she moaned loudly in her gag, shuddered, and had a squirting orgasm when the leather leads fell from her crotch. Her legs shook and buckled; some more of her cum tinkled out.