Dixon Mason - Shackled and Tamed

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Dixon Mason sums up the allure of implement restrain bondage perfectly. With cable there is jiggle room, there is a chance to writhe and escape, but with iron there is no hope. It is cold and unyielding, the brilliant counter point to the sensuality of rope. She commences off trussed with tape. It isn't the way she thought this was going to start, but rapidly it begins to turn into something else. A iron band around her neck links her by a chain to the ceiling. It keeps her in place in a way she did not expect. She can't relax her gams or even slouch sans the iron pulling against her throat. Worse, she can't stir far from where she is. PD knows it and takes total advantage, cropping her butt mercilessly. When the iron is around her wrists and ankles she moves down to the floor. The bar that keeps her gams apart unveils her pussy to a violent caning. Her tits are corded off to make them more mild for their own abuse. She talked about it earlier, the effect restrain bondage and discipline has on her body. The welts haven't even embarked to shape but her pussy is running in rivulets wet. She isn't fairly able to jizm from the anguish but the Magic wand on her bean will get her the rest of the way there. Dixon's a bit tired after her orgasms, but PD's acquaintance Wank Strike is here and he hasn't had his turn with her yet. Now the iron bars and fetters have her on her back with her gams spread up into the air. The iron cell on her head blocks out all of the light but amplifies every sound around her. The sounds of sole steps, the whip coming down on her legs, even her own bellows are made louder as they echo in the little prison. She is going to jizm again, tighter this time, and as the swings of orgasms take her bod she will get the exact experiencing she wants, bucking against the ruthless bondage.