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Languages: español and English

Location: ask me

Smokes/Drinks: No/ sometimes

Interested In: Women, Men, Couples, Trans

Body Type: Fitness

Twiddle Streamate - Still, sometimes she loves to show it later.

Sometimes he finds that the only key she has is the one she has in her bedroom. It is a locked safe. All she has to do is get her self out of there alive and he will set about getting her. He has her tied, gagged and stretched on a bed. Getting her out of the bed and into the car is one thing, but doing so is a whole other thing altogether. It is a nice, big car. He has stock, old-fashioned parts. An engine cover that can be removed. And if she farts on him, he will just use brute force. She is secure, though, and wears a collar and leash. She is well co-ordinated, so if one of the partners comes by to attack her, she is on her best behavior. And if the other partner backs off, she is on her best behavior too. The only thing that keeps them from both coming together is that none of them want to. The only people who know she is in the club at the moment are her mirror selves. She can hear, smell and hear in the other rooms, though.

She is stimulated. Her breathing is shallow. She struggles a bit inside. She can feel the wetness of her inner thigh. She hears someone snicker in the other room. She can smell it before she feels it. It is soft and sweet and it is rumpled. It is what the cologne should be like. A sweet, sweet scent. But unlike the cologne she is not wearing herself, her body, she is not even wearing a collar. She hears the laughter and the sound of conversation. She knows that her other captives are not friends, but foes, too. She has done well to put on the cologne. She has perfected it. She has even perfected the art of using it on herself. She uses it on herself as well.

When she is not wearing it on herself, she is nude. She sits in a fancy chair, some distance from the audience, off to one side, apart from the banisters. She can hear their laughter, their words, the sounds of splashes of the fountains. She knows, she enjoys, and in a way, even spoils. She can see their expressions, her partner's and herself; she knows their fear and delight and wonder at what they see. She knows their anticipation. She enjoys something she can't explain, but it taste just as good, if not better, knowing it is forbidden. She can taste the mixture of fear and sweet excitement. "It is forbidden. It is forbidden. It is forbidden. You cannot taste it here. You shall have to come here and have it." "Is it safe to do so?" she thinks. "It could be dangerous. What do you think of the risks?" "What do you think of the risk of losing your hand? We have no control..

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