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Isobel Devi and I have our slave bound to our cross and we plan on using him as a scratching post. He has surrendered his flesh for us to use as our canvas to dig our nails into. We scratch him slowly, but also lay in some swift scratches to his bare body. He feels our fingernails on his flesh, sometimes heavenly, sometimes pure pain. He cannot escape and must be subjected to our scratches until we are satisfied. We leave hundreds of long red scratches all over him.
Isobel Devi and I have our slave bound to our cross and we plan on using him as a scratching post. He has surrendered his flesh for us to use as our canvas to dig our nails into. We scratch him slowly, but also lay in some swift scratches to his bare body. He feels our fingernails on his flesh, sometimes heavenly, sometimes pure pain. He cannot escape and must be subjected to our scratches until we are satisfied. We leave hundreds of long red scratches all over him.
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Not Rated
Not Rated
Not Rated