Blonde Damsel is Distressed in savage Devices and Tormented

Dahlia’s stuck from the jump. Legs split wide, arms wrenched behind her in a strappado, steel and leather holding her open like an invitation. Her ass juts out, begging for The Pope’s attention, and he takes it—spanking, flogging, until the sting bores him. He moves to her tits, clips clothespins to soft flesh, then steps behind her. Her bare feet get the cane next, each strike burning up her soles. Bastinado doesn’t break her yet, but she fights the steel, knows there’s no give. He shoves his cock down her throat, then buries it in her pussy, yanking orgasms out whether she’s ready or not. Next she’s folded into a pile-driver, limbs trapped in steel. The Pope zeroes in on her soles again, swinging with meaner rhythm. The cane crashes until her screams rattle the room. When the torment’s wrung her dry, he stuffs her mouth full, then pounds her cunt until every climax’s wrung out of her. Last position: flat on her back, legs spread, body already bruised and spent. The Pope works her over—hands, cock, whatever keeps her twitching. He finishes in every hole he hasn’t already wrecked, leaves her limp and empty. Only then does he loosen the steel and let her go.