His hands were bound above his head, his feet tied far below him as we acted out one of his filthy dark fantasies. He was stretched, and with every twist of my wrist I am stretching him more. His body can barely take the tension, but I don’t plan on stopping any time soon and it surely doesn’t stop his cock from being rock fucking hard and dripping. “Please, please I don’t know anything!” He was begging. I was grinning as I tightened that torture rack. I heard his bones pop a bit. He started sobbing. I was only getting wetter and wetter.
His fantasy was to be pulled apart, limb from limb, and used in one of my sacrifices. Little did he know, this was no fantasy. I twisted the knob, pulling the rack taunt and making him really start to scream and beg. I tightened it again as he called out the safe word. It’s too bad my earbuds were in on full blast. It was a fun fucking night, pull that stupid fuck apart piece by piece. The more he screamed, the wetter I got. And fuck did he scream a lot.
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