Praetor's Captioned Captivity Art

[Praetor3d]

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KRISTIN'S MODELING MISTAKE

Poor Kristin!

For months, her modeling profile had generated no leads.
Then one day, a recruiter cold called with an offer for a photoshoot.
This was the break she was yearning for!

Her excitement clouded her judgement.
Never mind that this caller had no reviews or reputation.
This wide-eyed Southern belle trusted that everything was legit.
Even the far away exotic photoshoot locale sounded exciting!

She jetted off halfway across the world.

The session location seemed sketchy, at this abandoned warehouse.
But Kristin's pride refused to allow her to turn around.
And seeing the large number of crew members settled her nerves.

Everything seemed normal at first.
The gritty room seemed like the perfect artistic backdrop.
It loomed large, highlighting the contrast of her features in this darkness.

She started with modeling dresses and evening wear.
But to her dismay, the outfits progressively became skimpier.
Ironically the costumes made her feel completely naked.

Suddenly the crew began stripping.

"What are you... what's going on?!," she gasped.

The agency operated a seedy underbelly of exploitation porn.
And Kristin was their latest ingenue.

The recording began in earnest now as they violently ripped off her clothes.
They subjected her lush body to all manners of torment.

Clamps, ropes, chains, whips, devices... always spreading her long legs wide apart.
Stripped down to stockings and heels, the cameras invaded every bare inch of naked skin.
Everything of Kristin was intimately explored, both inside and out.
They recorded every detail of her ordeal to distribute to their perverse clientele.

[Praetor3d]

THE MISSIONARY'S POSITION

To Delilah, it felt like an innocent religious meetcute at first.
Straight out of seminary college, her two year missionary task was to spread the word of the good Lord to far off lands.

However, the tribesmen were suspicious, they've heard it all before...
Enough was enough, they took her captive as punishment for corruption.

It was delicious irony with Delilah chained in the very same bondage devices that colonists wielded upon their ancestors.
This time, they would not fall prey to the false pretenses of religious conversion.

[Praetor3d]

Delilah felt so helpless. Her thin arms began to tremble, and so too her lithe body as she felt his hot breath behind her neck. The air felt thick with their anticipation and her dread... his fingers, like talons, dug into the folds of fabric.

"Please... let me go," she whimpered.

Then she gasped out loud, both at the audacity and at the sheer strength, as his rippling forearms and bare hands ripped the back of her dress like tissue paper. The sound of torn threads was loud and unmistakeable, ratcheting up her panic.

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Delilah's breaths became ragged, as suddenly the tension in her dress straps sprung free. Her heaving breasts felt weightier, unsupported and cold, as a chill air bathed her exposed chest. His rough fingers dug into her waistband, yanking the skirt as it fell uselessly to her feet.

Her skin blushed, feeling so very naked and vulnerable. Her hands instinctively sought to protect her modesty, to no avail. The shackles were unyielding, leaving her hanging like fresh meat to the rabid stares of these savages!

[yyy02]

...Delilah's breaths became ragged, as suddenly the tension in her dress straps sprung free. Her heaving breasts felt weightier, unsupported and cold, as a chill air bathed her exposed chest. His rough fingers dug into her waistband, yanking the skirt as it fell uselessly to her feet.

Her skin blushed, feeling so very naked and vulnerable. Her hands instinctively sought to protect her modesty, to no avail. The shackles were unyielding, leaving her hanging like fresh meat to the rabid stares of these savages!

I like the buildup.

[Praetor3d]

It felt entirely like a bad dream, and Delilah kept thinking she was going to wake up any minute now.

But the nightmare was only beginning...

She felt utterly defenseless. Arms overhead, her lush body was on full display. Her ragged breathing only seemed to further call attention to the prominent curves of her breasts, jutting out from her thin frame.

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Her eyes darted back and forth, taking stock of her predicament. Tribesmen were everywhere, there was no escape, only hope that they would just leave her be. Despite averting eye contact, she could feel their lustful gazes. What would become of her, she shuddered.

However, that was not the only question...

She fixated on the number of clay pots these men had tucked under their arms. The closest man was stirring his hand inside of it, before drawing it out. He inspected the oozing slime, seemingly satisfied with it's viscosity.

What is it, she wondered?
Lubricant??
Poison???

Delilah always had such a vivid imagination. It served her well when it came to art and writing.
But this time, her mind was driving her wild in the form of dark thoughts in mad terror!

What was he going to do with it?!? She panicked seeing his face now a contorted mask of lust and excitement.

"No! Get that away from me!!!!," she shrieked.

[frog]

Good story line, linking the past to the present through the thread of vengeance.

[Praetor3d]

Delilah flinched at first contact.

That liquid was thick as syrup and cold as hell. Her skin immediately flared with goosebumps, as she tried in bondaged vain to wriggle away.

The cold soon gave way to warmth. Such an odd sensation! The man continued to apply more of this syrupy goop, reaching for more from the pot, and liberally coating every square inch of breast.

And he made sure not to spill a drop.

After all, it was an arduous task to extract this noxious substance from the skin glands of a particular jungle frog. It wasn't as potent as a toxin, but had properties in a similar vein. They initially used it to coat spears, to paralyze prey without introducing poison into their food. However, they've also found alternative uses...

Whatever this was, was suddenly accosting Delilah's sensitive nerve endings, to her great dismay...

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Having grown up in a strict religious upbringing, she was schooled to be self-conscious with her blossoming endowment. Yet, from time to time there was enlightenment on how madly perceptive certain parts of her body were to certain touches.

She was acutely aware that the still air was seemingly dancing around her nipples now. This filthy liquid was relentless, oozing through her tender membrane. Those rapidly stiffening pink buds were suddenly ratcheting up in sensitivity by a thousand fold.

He continued his molten assault on her tit, slathering even more of the stuff, and rubbing it in like a salve. The pulpy sphere seemed to glow in spit shine glory.

Delilah started shaking her head in denial. The heat was now seeping inward through her voluminous mammary, like a deep tissue massage. That succulent orb felt like it was swelling... hardening... paralyzed yet hyperactively stimulated. It felt like it was going to burst any minute like a balloon.

"Unngh... w-what have you done to me?!," she croaked...