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Sleep is fitful and only possible after the exhaustion of continuous shifting round and adjusting the rocks which are my mattress. It feels like my entire body was coated in blows off – the rocks would be bruising me. Its getting colder. The sun is reduced; It beams through a window and illuminates the specifics of everything hovers above me. I am one of those internet bound carcasses. As it darkens, the chirps and squishes begin — dark flutters of darting fantoms swirl above me. They seem to get attracted with my presence — frequently diving and bombing me using their droppings.The smell grows fouler from the afternoon; my toilet is my bed. In the beginning he’d come and stand over me; staring, pissing, playing with himself. Today, when he attracted me that the slop, he was wearing a gasoline mask.The regular chores of the grounds are a whole lot more interesting as I let my mind to wander to that creature entombed within my barn. It is less distracting of late because of this stink, and that I now must face the job of cleansing it. I’ve prepared a platform based on the layouts I have observed in the county fair; A grooming table which holds her wrist and ankles so she is on all fours.For times I have been happy with merely knowing that it had been stored there. To compensate and inspire the chore of cleaning it, I wish to take it to another level.I am likely to bifurcate her — two for one. In the head I will have her do cosmetics. The penis sucking will have a more classy feel. At the bottom, a system will soften and ditch her gash for my cock.Something is up; he’s standing holding the shameful head bag and that horrible pole which guards around my throat. He orders me to function over on my stomach — I understand this drill, so I put my hands behind my back instantly. (Reaching through the grate he shoves against the shackles collectively ) He slips the bag in my head, yanks the chain locks and tight it.I listen to the muted sound of this grate scraping on the cement. He yanks me out of the hole by my neck. The concrete bits my skin as I fight to get my footing. This is actually the worst — he still pushes me forward by that pole. It’s a stifling fright — I cannot see where I’m stepping. He seems to delight in allowing me excursion or briskly walking me into obstacles.I’m on all fours locked at the wrist and ankles. It has to be a platform or table of some kind. He pulls off the hood off my head — the purpose of this position is suddenly very apparent. A bucket of soapy water and a hose are all lying around the ground. Im sure he will make what is to come as dreadful as you can. I can’t help but sigh with good relief as this filthy stench is going to be washed from me.