Concentration

Amber’s back, fired up from round one, talking fast about how it hit her and how she’s counting down to the live show. Right now she’s caught in the rig—wrists and ankles cuffed, chains stretched like she’s tangled in a web. Sweat streaks her face while she fights the strain. Drool slips past the gag and slides down her chest. Every strike of the flogger across her tits, ass, and cunt pulls a sharp cry out of her. Her knees burn from holding every pound of her. Focus tightens her features. Nose hooks and clover clamps pinch hard; she breathes through it, eyes locked on nothing. Inflatable cocks slide in both holes and stretch her open—she grits her teeth, brow creasing deeper with each pump. When the vibrator finally touches her clit, the edge cracks. Her hips jerk, then lock, and the first orgasm tears through her, eyes glazing as the second follows right on its heels.