Casey Calvert Anal Hooked and Gagged

Casey drops to her knees first, wrists already lashed behind her back so tight the hemp bites white lines into her skin. Sgt. Major moves like a man who’s done this a thousand times and still loves it. He feeds the cold steel hook between her cheeks, pushes until the curve seats deep in her ass, then threads the rope from the eyelet up through her hair and jerks her head back. The tension keeps her spine arched and her mouth open, perfect for the fat red ball gag he shoves between her teeth. Spit floods out almost at once. He tightens the buckle until her jaw aches, clips the drool-wet strap to the rope that runs from the hook, and she’s trapped in her own posture. Every breath pulls the steel a little deeper. When he stands her up the rope from her wrists goes over a beam; one hard yank and she’s bent at the waist, arms wrenched high, chest aimed at the floor. The hook tugs with each heartbeat. He steps behind her, works two thick fingers straight into her cunt without asking, checks how wet she already is, and laughs once under his breath. The clit vibe comes next—pressed hard, switched on high. Her thighs shake. The first orgasm hits fast and mean; her knees buckle but the ropes hold. He doesn’t back off. He keeps the toy there while she screams around the gag, juices running down her leg, the hook shifting inside her every time her body jerks. When she sags he hauls the wrist rope higher, forcing her chest down and her ass up again, and starts the whole cycle over. She’s soaked, shaking, drooling, and nowhere near done.