Isis Love and Wenona in Electrified Wrist Suspension!

Wenona's no soft mark, but she still ends up dangling when Isis Love takes her wrists and strings her high. Sweat slides off Wenona's skin while the pads bite into every muscle; each jolt jerks her off her toes until nothing's left to hold her but the rope. Isis doesn't ease up. She paces, watches, then drives the cattle prod into slick flesh, making Wenona dance. The shocks chase up her ass, jolt through her small tits, until spit strings from Wenona's chin and her body gleams. Isis toys with her, pressing the hitachi in quick, cruel bursts—enough to light a spark, never enough to let it catch. The room fills with the hum of electricity and the rasp of desperate breathing.