To control the breath is to control the entire person. Every thought, movement, and emotion everything becomes focused on one thing only. Air.
In his mind, she’s really not even a she. It’s an object, black, zipped into latex with a bubblehead. Only her lips can be seen. This is how you know it’s human. By the lips. He hoists up this black body-like object by the ankles. An inflatable gag plugs that single opening, the one through which we see her lips. Her breath wheezes in and out through a small tube. Moisture condenses. Drool slowly obstructs her one link with the outer world. A vibrator’s zipped into the latex bag, humming against her pussy. She comes. Alone.
She’s naked now. We can see she’s a she, her ankles spread wide. He whips her back and ass, wrapping the tip of the whip toward her pussy and cunt. Then he turns her over and whips her other side. She comes very quickly when she’s fucked with Mr. Pogo. He intensifies the position and plunges his hand in her cunt. The cunt sucks at him, trying to pull him in. She comes again.
Now seated, U-bolts lock down her thighs. A metal band tight around her waist matches the Garrote at her throat, keeping her plastered to the post. Mr. Pogo fucks her mouth, then her ass. As the vibrator purrs in her pussy, she begs to come. Afterward, her pussy’s open and loose, unfurled.
Vacuum tubes suck her breasts, distending her nipples. Her vacuumed pussy grows huge and bright red. After facing a sadistic and twisted PD, Erica’s happy and playful, wagging her tongue at world.