Princess Donna Dolore and Roxy DeVille

Roxy DeVille walked in looking like trouble dressed in curves. She never got tied before, never felt current crawl across her skin. We changed that fast. Ropes bit into her wrists and ankles, pulled tight, left her open. A ball gag cut off the smart talk, left only moans and spit. I ran the cattle prod across her thigh, let the spark kiss bare flesh. She jumped, cursed, got wet. Each shock made her twitch harder, made her ass beg. I flogged it raw, watched red bloom, watched her grind against nothing. When I slid the metal probes in, she took them deep. I turned the dial and her hips bucked like she wanted more voltage, not less. One hand on the controls, one hand pushing fingers past the anal plug, I forced orgasm after orgasm out of her while the current danced. She came loud, filthy, eyes rolled back. By the time the ropes came off she was hooked, trembling, already asking when she could come back for more.