Dylan and John Strong

Dylan stands five foot nine. Hard body. Hard attitude. She thinks the night is just about getting off in public. Princess Donna plays along. Lets her believe she runs the game. Then the crowd gets bigger. Hands reach in. Dylan sweats, fights, and finally gives way. Stocks clamp her head and wrists. She cannot bow, cannot look away. The Princess wants thanks. Dylan chokes on the words. Wax hits her chest. The cat licks her back. The vibrator stays glued to her clit. Every mistake costs more. They fist her until she shakes. A crotch rope bites her slit raw while she is made to crawl. John Strong steps up. Eight inches, thick, unhurried. He slams into her until the floor beneath her feet grows slick with every forced squirt.