Doll Face Mya McKay

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Tats on the backs of her fingers read Chick FACE. So what's this damsel with the doll face doing here, standing at the lip of The Inferno? She wears the Fiddle and the dual ankle shackle, iron ball gag. Excruciating unrelenting metal. Slobber runs in rivulets from her jaws as PD fingers her pussy and cunt. The lift pulls the Fiddle upward. A vibing bullet presses into her pussy. PD pummels her titties with a skewer. (You can pound and prod a doll with a skewer. A doll doesn't feel.) The Fiddle is fastened to a brief iron mitt jutting out from a iron pole. At first she's on her knees and plumbed and caned. But soon she's on her soles and PD's driving her around and around in circles. (If you abase a doll, will the doll turn her face away? If you have fun with a doll's pussy, will she come?) With institutional restraints on her wrists and ankles, Mya's attached to one of PD's devices. She sits with gams up and spread. Clamps on her ultra-cute puffies pull them upward. She's pussywhipped. Ropes on her internal thighs make her pussy outward. It looks huge. He pounds her with three fingers. Then with an fake penis inflated in her cunny and a finger in her ass. The electro-hitachi hums in that ginormous pussy. Slobber sprays out her mouth. She comes once, twice, three times highly fast, shooting the inflated fake penis out her ass. Distant afterward, her face is devoid of expression. So maybe that's why she's here. Perhaps the doll wants her Gal Face shattered. To be or not to be. . . Conscience does make cowards of us all. . . William Shakespeare