Charlotte submits to the bamboo...

John Henry takes the reins when her voice gives out. He binds Charlotte with lengths of bamboo that won’t bend, won’t give, and won’t let her forget who owns every inch of her. The cane digs into her wrists, her thighs, her back, locking her into a cruel frame that keeps her standing even when her knees want to buckle. Rope cinches the bamboo tighter, clamps bite her nipples and pull them toward the floor. Every time she trembles, the frame reminds her she has nowhere to go. He works her slowly. A vibrator pressed hard between her spread legs, held there until the first orgasm cracks through her. She tries to twist away but the bamboo won’t allow it. Another climax hits harder. Her muffled cries leak around the thick ball gag stretching her jaw. Sweat slides down her stomach. The clamps tug with every shudder. John Henry doesn’t let up. He watches, calm, while she fights the unrelenting poles and loses again and again. Her muscles shake. Her breath hisses through her nose. Still the bamboo holds. Still the rope bites. Still the pleasure is dragged out of her whether she wants it or not.