I whimper miserably, trying to ignore the growing secret excitement throbbing throughout my own bound body. As instructed earlier, I use my carefully curved lips and tongue to create a warm, wet, tight little trough for that nasty-smelling organ to slip through. Dimly I hear raucous cheers, jeers, glasses clinking and Katia’s camera clicking, again and again and again, as those strong hands grip steady my head and that hard-and-yet-soft, pulsing hot pole begins stroking pneumatically into and out of me.
Despite my earlier training I gag a bit as Butt-boy’s pungent monster chafes my throat. Yet despite its urgent engorgement, this prick is much softer than the plastic and rubber ones my mistresses so gleefully raped me with before, and it’s generally smaller as well. I quickly gain contro
