The Art of Rope: Isis Love

Isis wants to run the show. Tie the girls down. Make them come apart. She gets her wish, but first she has to feel the rope bite her own skin. We bind her wrists, cinch her ankles, stuff a fat ball gag past her lips until she can only grunt. Curvy hips strain against the hemp. Every knot cinches tighter. We work her over, fuck her like the toy she is, tickle every inch until she squeals and thrashes. 2005, all brunette curves and desperate, muffled sounds. She learns the hard way what surrender tastes like.