Return of Sara Faye

Sara Faye craves the rope. Pain keeps her wet. Steven St. Croix starts with a thick flogger, striping her ass and thighs while she balances barefoot on an overturned milk can. Each lash jolts through her, yet she stays upright until he kicks the can away. She drops, rope catching hard, body swinging free and wide open. He lowers her to her knees, clamps her nipples, runs the chain through an eyebolt in the floor so any shift forward tears at the tender flesh. A vibrator hums against her cunt. Steven feeds her his cock until her throat convulses, spit running down her chin, eyes watering. Next he bends her over a sawhorse, wrists and ankles cinched tight. More lashes land, then he drives in deep, pounding her until the wood creaks. Finally he spreads her across a wheelbarrow, legs lashed apart, and buries himself again, using every inch while she hangs there, helpless and dripping.