A Healing Art

Stacey drove in from the midwest chasing her own questions. She wants it rough, craves it, and flips the script depending on who is holding the reins. With women she submits, with men she fights back, hands ready to push and pull. Those natural 34Ds get noticed fast. cyd sets her on a bondage box, hogtied, head hanging. A harness gag stretches her jaw. A back arch forces her chest high and the clover clamps sink into her nipples, weights dragging. She breathes hard, limbs shaking. He gives her a quick taste of a vibrator, then the cane lands across stretched nipples, bare feet, and ass. An asshook follows, and he rams a dildo into her cunt so deep she nearly pitches off the box. Next she lies on her back, limbs strapped around a pole. A spider gag keeps her mouth open. Clamps pin her pussy and toes apart, cunt exposed. A candle spins overhead, flinging hot wax across her skin. A hanging vibrator drags an orgasm out of her, loud, shaking, while wax still drips. Last she stands strapped to a pole, arms overhead. Suction cups swallow her breasts in the biggest cylinders cyd has. Clothespins bite tongue, nipples, and cunt. When he yanks the zipper free she snarls through the pain. Later she says the anger helped, turned the hurt into something she could use. A healing art, her way.