Buzonga-rama

Claire Dames’ breasts are massive. The metal cage is already tight for her tiny frame, yet we still shove those heavy tits through the bars and trap them. Clamps bite down on the soft flesh and a flogger snaps across the same skin until it flushes red. A cane cuts across her bare feet while she is still locked inside. She howls around the gag, spit running down her chin. Her cries only grow louder when the spikes come out. We yank her from the cage, slam her chest against the pointed wood, and clamp her tongue so her neck arches back hard. The spreader bar keeps her ankles wide; a whip cuts across her thighs if she moves an inch. Every twitch grinds her against the spikes and jerks the tongue clamp. Last we bend her over the flexible rack. Leather straps crush her tits into tight balls and fresh clamps pinch the same bruised skin. She arches, shaking, as the tension builds.