Seeing her breasts so exposed before me, my hands are under them, caressing, no, teasing the senses of this creature so alive that stands before me. I...kiss her forehead, as her fingers reach the lower button, she tugs at me shirt. ‘Try my buckle.’ I whisper as another of my kisses entwines our mouths, I feel her hands shaking, not in excitement or anticipation, but in the unknowingness of what she might enjoy. I sense her anxiety as she pulls at me belt, releasing it from the buckle. My hands. Chelsea walked down the last three or four steps to the basement floor and timidly walked up to the first device. It was a huge wall-mounted wooden X with metal eye bolts at the end of each leg. A wide strap was mounted at the intersection. "That is my X-rack," he said, as she looked at it. She moved to the next device, still in awe of what she was seeing. "This little jewel is called a kneeling bench. The errant victim would kneel on the pad here and be locked in place, offering up their. More

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