Bondage Slut

Katrina Colt's arms stretch tight overhead, wrists lashed to a wooden beam. The Pope doesn't wait. The flogger cracks across her skin. He grabs her tits, works them hard, then rips her shirt open. Her panties follow. More leather lashes come down. He twists the torn shirt into a blindfold, cuts off her sight, then drags the crop over her cunt while the Hitachi presses in. She comes hard, once, twice, body jerking against the ropes. He hangs a twelve-pound bowling ball from her pussy and leaves it swinging. Later she's on her knees, chest pressed to a table, ass raised. He spanks the color into her cheeks, then brings the cane to her bare soles. Spurs follow, then a thin knitting needle tracing every nerve. When she's dripping, he works his fingers inside, stretches her, then fucks her with a dildo on a stick while the vibrator stays glued to her clit. She keeps coming. Last position: shoulders on the floor, hips high, ass offered. The dildo drives back in; the vibe stays busy. He pushes deeper, mining every last shudder until she's spent and glistening under the lights.