Fresh Meat: Rosalyn Sphinx

Rosalyn's a tiny thing with that hungry look in her eye. The Pope straps her into steel and pulls her arms out like wings. A gag silences the nervous laugh she keeps spitting out. One good flog and her nipples clamp up tight. He lifts her onto her toes, then drags a second device under her until every muscle burns. The vibrator never stops. She comes until her legs shake and the steel rattles. Next she's bolted to a wooden chair with her knees forced apart. The zapper dances across skin that already stings. Then the cattle prod lands and she jumps so hard the bolts squeak. He switches back to the vibrator and the prod together, forcing orgasm after orgasm while she begs through the drool. Last, he locks her spread-eagle on the floor. Steel shackles bite at wrists and ankles. He finds the spot under her ribs that makes her shriek and laughs when she starts to thrash. Between tickles he covers her mouth, cutting the air until she almost panics, then lets her breathe right before another climax rips through her. By the final buzz she is a soaked, trembling mess, still twitching against the steel.