Princess Donna Dolore

Donna had to pass the test. Pain first, then pleasure, and both at full throttle. Chanta tied her down hard, wrists yanked back, legs spread wide. A cattle prod kissed her thigh and she screamed through clenched teeth. Sparks popped against bare skin, muscles twitching. Anal plugs followed, shoved deep while the current kept her honest. Each zap tightened her around the intrusion. The more she shook, the more the ropes held. Two fingers worked her clit, then three, until the orgasm tore through her. Sweat ran down her stomach. Chanta didn’t let up. Another prod. Another climax ripped out. Donna’s body glistened under the lights, bound and used, but the smile that slipped across her lips said she’d earned the title of Princess. 2004. She proved she could dish it out because she’d taken it first.