Shauna Ryan

Shauna Ryan sits bound and gagged, those heavy tits pushing against the ropes. My hands kept reaching for them during the shoot. Couldn't stop. The gag silences every protest while I squeeze and slap, leaving red prints across pale skin. Every slap lands sharp. She strains, moans through the rubber, but the ropes hold. I grab again, fingers sinking deep, pressing bruises into flesh that bruises easy. The cane waits on the table. My palm comes down once more, harder this time, and she jerks against the bonds, breath caught behind the gag. I keep touching because I can't not.