**Squirting Shop Slut** A Device Bondage Feature

Savannah shows up late again, heels clicking on the cold floor, blouse half buttoned. The Pope watches from the shadows. He gave her the job, now she’s about to pay for every wasted hour. He grabs her wrist, slams her against the counter. Her breath hits the glass hard. Leather straps bite her wrists, cinch her ankles wide. The metal pole between her thighs leaves no mercy and no cover. Each strike of the cane lands sharp, deliberate, branding heat across pale skin. Savannah jerks, but the ties hold her open. He works her clit with gloved fingers, relentless, until her hips buck and a sudden gush splashes across the floor. He doesn’t slow down. Another hit. Another wet pulse. Sweat rolls down her spine. The shop lights flicker over her open mouth, over the red lines crossing her ass. She strains against the steel, moans turning raw, every squirt proof of how far past the line she’s been dragged. 2014. Bondage bites. Punishment lands. Nothing left to hide.