Desi Girl Fucking With Boyfriend In DELHI

This time he was satisfied with me. I was released and my next job for them was for me to suck the new TV's cock. This I started and within a few minutes he pleaded for me to stop as he didn't want to cum. I was ordered to stop. Then It was decided that I needed to be punished for making him feel he wanted to cum too soon. Because of this I was to be punishe in my cock and balls. I was once again retrained by my wrists from above and a Y shaped adjustable item put in front of me. This had two foot holes in it's base and I had to put my feet in them. Then the head TV attached some sticky pads with wires on to my balls on either side and the Y section was fixed tightly under my balls pushing them uncomfortably upwards. He then connected the wires to a box and I realised it was an electrical device. Gently he adjusted the controls to pulses I could feel and increased them slowly. At first it was a tingle but them became a bit more uncomfortable. The other TV was invited to watch and. She called me back into her room. With some trepidation, I went back. She had not covered herself and I could not help ogling her, but what stopped me was the expression on her face. It was languid to the point of being stuporous. To say the least, this aroused in me (no pun intended) a deep concern that she might be slipping into insulin shock. Sandra and I both have juvenile diabetes. We are both insu-lin dependent. A very large part of our lives is devoted to self-monitoring and some gentle nag-ging of each other to make sure we keep to the routine. I went right to her dresser and opened her kit, intending to test her blood sugar. “No, Baby Brother, I’m OK – I don’t need that.” Undeterred, I loaded a fresh blade into her auto-lancet, ripped open an alcohol swab, and stuck a new test strip into her blood glucose meter. I carried this stuff to her bedside. Setting the meter on her night table, I asked, “Then, just what the hell is wrong with you?” I lifted her hand from her.
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