Cheyenne Jewel Punished with Uncontrollable Orgasms and Mean Metal Bondage!

Cheyenne Jewel sits in the dungeon chair, lingerie barely covering her. She knows what she wants but hates admitting it. The Pope slips up behind her and yanks a coarse burlap bag over her head. Her scream echoes off the concrete. He doesn't bother answering the pleas that follow. Instead he drives thin metal spikes under her manicured nails, one by one. She spits around the huge gag, drool running down her tits and onto her shaved cunt. Every strike of the cane on her palms sends a new rush of wetness between her legs. She tries to jerk away, but the steel cuffs keep her fingers exactly where he wants them. The moment she starts to gasp from the pain, he slams a Hitachi onto her swollen clit. The motor buzzs, sweet and steady, until she tips toward the edge. Then the cattle prod cracks against her thigh and the orgasm dies, leaving only a frustrated sob. He drags her onto her back next, frog-ties her thighs with thick belts, chains her ankles wide. The heavy cane beats a rhythm on her shins, each thud ringing through bone. When her legs are striped red he grabs the thick dildo and drives it straight into her dripping hole. She rocks against it without thinking, cream coating the shaft. Before she can beg for more, he flips her onto her stomach, spanks the tight muscle of her ass, then switches to the flogger. Each tail lands with a wet snap. Still not enough. He picks up the cat-o-nine-tails and lays it across both cheeks until she’s hoarse from begging. Then the cold steel of the ass hook slides into her, the curve pressing deep. He knots the hook to her hair, yanking her head back every time she moves. With the vibrator glued to her clit again he forces one orgasm after another out of her, each one ripping through the strict metal bondage until she shakes like she’s coming apart. Sweat runs down her spine. When he finally walks away, the only sound left is the rattle of chains and her ragged breathing in the dark.