It’s getting dark outside. At least, you think it is - maybe the tiny bathroom windows really are black, the frosted glass dark against the white-tile walls of the place that has becomes your prison. Or maybe, you desperately hope, maybe its just your vision finally, finally starting to black out. Maybe its all in your head. Maybe none of this is real - how could any of this, any of it be REAL - your thoughts are interrupted as you gasp out loud, feeling the slick, fleshy root that's been twisting sweet, directionless pleasure suddenly tense straight. Your eyes fly wide, as you hope against hope, only to feel the root's firm tip push itself directly into your prostate again. Not again, not again - again it starts to thrust.
Even if you had the strength, you can barely move amidst the slick, tight roots binding your arms above your head, spreading your legs out wide as in between the slick root pounds your rear forwards into the sucking flesh that envelops your cock. You’re just trying to breathe, trying to hold on, as much to your physical restraints as to your own sanity, all while your treacherous hips start thrusting again, picking up the building pace that's sending you relentlessly into yet another orgasm. Your restraints move with you, the roots creaking taut as your limbs tense inwards, your whole body coiling in closer, closer, holding for one eternal instant... then exploding outwards with your voice. There aren’t any words to describe it, no room for words, for anything other than the white hot waves of pleasure shooting out of your cock, each burst of bliss filling you all the way from your spasming toes to your smiling mouth as you scream in hopeless joy for the hundredth time.
How could any of this heaven, this hell - how could any of this be real?
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