Squirting Slut April Brooks Trained to Control Her Pussy

April Brooks can’t sit still once the ropes bite in. Owen Gray lashes her wrists, ankles, ankles spread, knees driven open. A leather bit forces her jaws wide and spit runs down her chin, drips between her small tits. She’s fresh meat, yearling. He palms her pussy, checks the wetness, slaps it twice, nods like a verdict. April bucks at the first hard strike of the cane across her thighs, then again across the tops of her breasts. The sting leaves thin welts that bloom bright. She whimpers, tries to swallow the noise, fails. He fingers her again, hard, relentless, until her hips jerk and her thighs tremble. She comes fast, squirting onto the floor in messy pulses, embarrassed and keyed up. The gag catches another moan. He tightens the ropes and pushes her onto her stomach, hips lifted, ass offered. One gloved hand spreads her cheeks; the other works a plug past the tight ring until it pops inside. She gasps around the leather. He fucks her cunt next, thick, steady strokes that shove the plug deeper each time. April strains, the bonds creaking, sweat shining on her back. He pulls the plug free, swaps in his cock, and she takes it with a broken sound. Every thrust knocks another squirt out of her until the mat is soaked. He fists her hair, keeps her upright, keeps her coming until her legs shake and the only word left in her throat is please. The scene cuts on her twitching, dripping, used.