The sounds of sorrow under great torment has a very distinctive sound. Sadistic mad men through the ages prompt the songs of woe and dolor. The toll of the iron bell could toll for thee. Here Master James summons the quickening of dolor in his slave 465 as she is tormented with a wooden spike inserted in her asshole, secured by the waste, Steel shackled and restrained within the chain cage for an unknown amount of time, cantilevered 20 feet into the air, poking the fear with wooden sticks, taunting her tears wearing her down with heavy steel chains and weight through he bottom of the cage. You can feel it thick in the air without physically seeing it happen as the sobs fill the ears. The taste of metal on the tongue, the iron taste of ichor. Seeing great sorrow triggers the primal need to rescue her. But in Master James, the fear allows the sadistic giggle to arise ascending to another level as being the cause of great sorrow, the rush, the power to give and take away. A sobering sermon, the sounds of great Dolor.
Reflective dialog from slave 465; Masters torments are quite painful sometimes. The Heavy metal bondage is exhausting but invigorating, my back burns in stress. The taste of metal on my tongue from the bit echoes the burnt wooden stake inserted in my ass, held in place by the waist cincher that limits my breath. The moisture from sweat and tears sting my eyes as a great moaning escapes my chest passed my lips, oh the pain and desperation. The sound of the bell between my legs sobers me to new pains in my shoulders from holding up the weight chained beneath me. Master pokes me with a dirty stick as my pussy drips from the odd fact that I really do love the pain and sorrow Master gives me…
