Bobbi Starr returns to Public Disgrace

They cage her like meat and wheel her into the bar. Patrons size her up, smirks twitching behind cheap beers. The door clangs open. Hands reach in—stripping Bobbi bare inch by inch, fingers rough on her skin. She tries to twist away, but the bars hold her steady. A gag gets shoved between her teeth, silencing the protests before they start. Clamps bite down hard on her nipples, sending sharp heat through her chest. Someone works a finger into her ass, another rubbing circles over her clit until her thighs shake. She cums loud and messy, back arching, drool sliding down her chin. They drag her out, parade her naked through the crowd, let every stranger cop a feel—mouth, cunt, ass—all open for the taking. One after another, they finger her, slap her, shove her where they want. Bobbi takes it all, body flushed and trembling under the lights.