savage Bondage, Severe Torment, And Squirting Orgasms

Daisy knows the score. She’s been here before with The Pope—sometimes calling the shots, sometimes flat on her back taking what he dishes out. Today she’s the one who takes. They start with her on a low box, wrists and ankles locked in a brutal ground tie that leaves everything open. The Pope shows up crop in hand and goes straight to work, striping her skin until she’s squirming. When that doesn’t satisfy him, the zapper comes out. He jolts her ass, her soles, her nipples, then ups the voltage with the cattle prod until her whole body jumps. She’s earned the other side of it now. He slides in and fucks her hard, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of her until she’s soaking the floor. Next she’s bent backward over a thick wooden spool, spine arched so far she can barely breathe. The flogger lands first, then he trades up for the cat-o-nine. Every strike cuts deeper. He lets her ride close to coming, yanks the pleasure back with the crop, then shoves her over the edge again—on, off, on again until her head’s spinning. Last scene: on her back, legs spread so wide the tendons stand out. The cattle prod is waiting, and The Pope wastes no time. He hits her with it until the fear is real, then buries his cock in her again. She gushes across the table, across the floor, until there’s nothing left but wet wood and shaky breathing.