Katharine Cane vs Jack Hammer

Katharine Cane has skin like milk and a backbone like steel. First time on the Device Bondage set and the metal already owns her. She starts crucified, leather straps biting her down against a cold grid, face smashed low, back bowed under weighted poles. Every breath drags the cage deeper into her skin. Jack waits, letting gravity finish the job, then hauls her upright so her own weight drives the straps harder. She’s stripped bare, dignity already gone. Next she sits locked in an ebi rig—metal cuffs around every toe, a mean gag jammed front and back, thighs wrenched open, wrists trapped at her waist. She can’t see the cattle prod coming until it kisses her. Final round, back to the cross: wrists bolted to the floor, neck and knees clamped together so every flinch yanks her head, feet hoisted high in steel. A thick plug splits her ass and keeps it open. Jack runs the whole ride, calm and ruthless, pushing until fear and need blur together.