The weights are hauled from the hole below me and detached from the shackles securing my ankles. This is of course an enormous relief. But then my feet are lifted up above me and locked to the chain suspending me somewhat above my wrists. This leaves me hanging upside down from my arms and legs with my head lolling back from my neck and inverting my view of the room.
A ratcheting crank lowers me to an appropriate level, and I can see little of Dakota as she approaches my face but her boots, chaps and waist. And of course jutting out bare inches from my face is that comparatively slender but still very scary dildo. Once again my former victim is pumping it threateningly, and her sexy, breathy voice has changed to an infinitely malevolent hiss.
“You see this c**k-raper? Montana calls it t
