Unnamed Island, South Pacific – Dusk, October 11, 2008
With dinner served, a day of heedful observation ends... no ships to be sighted, no airplanes to be heard. Captain Cocoa’s feeling of discouragement is normally well countered by the servility of her caged Gimp. Yet as she holds his altered p***s and directs his flow, her despondency continues despite thoughts of the leisurely oral servitude which will follow.
She never thought she would tire of the unbridled c*********s offered by her Gimp. Her comfort level is such that her imagination freely flows while the Gimp licks and sucks. Her mind floats to another place, another time. Yes, in her masturbatory fantasy she slakes revenge on the male gender, tormenting all with stiff phalluses and the desire to offer penetration. Her near rap
