Jack o' Lantern

Alexa lies bound on the floor, leather straps locking her into a strict hogtie. She can barely twitch, yet her voice stays light when Cyd asks how she feels. This marks her third shoot at DB and the hunger in her eyes says she keeps coming back for more. Cyd moves her to a new position: a spreader bar locks her ankles, another keeps her knees wide. A collar at her throat chains down to her knees and up to a ring in the ceiling, holding her upright. Arm sleeves of laced leather stretch from fingertips to shoulders and wrap around her own neck. She breathes hard. The tension shows in every sigh. Cyd pulls the corners of her mouth back and fastens them, stretching her lips into a permanent grin. A nosehook tugs her nostrils wide. The look is all jack-o’-lantern—distorted, helpless, drooling. Whimpers slip out until Cyd plants a vibrator on her clit. A thick dildo slides into her cunt and stays put, vibe taped against it. Alexa’s eyes roll; her body jerks as one orgasm crashes, then another. Later she lies on her back, wrists and ankles strapped together and hoisted toward the ceiling. The panel gag muffles every sound. The suspension lifts her clear of the floor; she swings in the air while a flogger paints red streaks across ass and pussy. Each strike pulls a muffled cry. The same thick cock and buzzing toy return, and her screams shift into greedy, shaking moans.