Because - mounted on top of the post is a large phallus, made of something solid like an iron rod encased in a softer rubbery material, and that phallus is currently buried deep inside my vagina. Salarin’s men suspended me in my ropes and then lowered me onto this object, using it to both fill me and trap me. With the wooden mounting post being so liberally greased I can’t get enough leverage to lift myself off of the huge rubber cock, and when I do manage to temporarily raise my pelvis the friction from the phallus against my nether lips sends such intense stimulation through me that my thighs shudder, I grow weak, and once more I’m where I started. It’s the largest solo porn invader I’ve so far had inside my sex. At first I found being stuffed with something so big was bitterly uncomfortable. It felt like it was probing right up to my stomach. But over time I’ve become so sexually aroused that the dildo began to move easily against my slick inner walls. Now I’m struggling more to increase my feeling of friction than to attempt to escape. I feel as if I’m drugged, in a trance, partly from the exhaustion of the torture and gang rape I’ve endured, but also from the steady effect of the things between my legs – the phallus and the other, even crueler device. The second one senses me somehow and when it chooses it vibrates against my clit. Technology can be a terrible thing when used to dispense suffering. Between the two devices I have been kept turned-on for what seems like hours – the vibrator teasing me, pausing and withdrawing from me if I get close to orgasm, and then when I regain too much control over my own body returning to repeat the unbearably delightful buzzing. Back when Wagner interviewed me and the Slavers forced me to climax using that cup between my legs, I knew I’d never been so turned-on before. Well it was nothing compared to what’s happening now. My public shaming with the red vibrating cup lasted a relatively short time. This has gone on and on forever. I can feel myself dripping with my own wetness - slipping and sliding on the ginormous phallus that stuffs my sex and makes me feel distended. My vision is blurring with animal lust, and my blood pounds in my ears. I’ve not given much thought to sex before the Rape Run, and certainly didn’t think masturbating that with my level head I could be reduced to a state where I was desperate to orgasm, but in my heart Japanese Porn of hearts I know now I would yield willingly to someone who would grant me that relief. The unwanted and involuntary expression of my true sexuality has taken place just as I’d always feared. I have lost control of my own body entirely. I’m breathing heavily. My naked skin glistens with sweat, which combines with the welts from the whipping so I look as though I’ve been oiled and grilled on a barbecue. My stomach muscles and the more intimate internal workings of my abdomen tense and relax, fluttering and rippling from no commands of mine, and sometimes when the stimulation gets too much the noises come from me. My moans and groans sound wanton, sexual, even to my denying ears. It was a similar aroma to Bernie, but had a fresher quality to it where Bernie's was a little stronger. Pressing the remote button in the center Japanese Porn console the heavy iron gates at the entrance to the driveway began to slowly swing open. “Uh-huh,” I moaned. “What? The arrow made it impossible for me to just pick her up in my arms, so together Kiersten and I dragged her towards the collection area. Make it good and hard for my tight little asshole.” Her head bobbed down over the shaft, and she began the work of blowing him. “Are you sure that you’re okay Tanya we can stop if you want.” It had all been part of a plan? Somehow, impressively, his cock was semi-firm masturbating again. He was born in France but had moved to Ireland with his parents when he was a teenager. I can book you in for the same time next week if that’s okay with you?” I didn't know why until I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that solo porn Sandy and Bren were making out.