Fettered and Tamed

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Dixon Mason sums up the allure of implement bondage perfectly. With cord there is jiggle room, there is a opportunity to squirm and escape, but with iron there is no hope. It is cold and unyielding, the flawless counter point to the sensuality of rope. She starts off bound with tape. It isn't the way she thought this was going to start, but quickly it starts to turn into something else. A iron cangue around her neck attaches her by a chain to the ceiling. It keeps her in place in a way she did not expect. She can't relieve her gams or even hunch without the iron pulling against her throat. Worse, she can't budge far from where she is. PD knows it and takes full advantage, lashing her bum mercilessly. When the iron is around her wrists and ankles she moves down to the floor. The bar that keeps her gams apart exposes her cunt to a aggressive caning. Her tits are bound off to make them more sensitized for their own abuse. She chatted about it earlier, the effect bondage and discipline has on her body. The welts haven't even began to shape but her cunt is dribbling wet. She isn't fairly able to jizm from the ache but the Vibrator on her pearl will get her the rest of the way there. Dixon's a bit weary after her orgasms, but PD's buddy Jack Beat is here and he hasn't had his turn with her yet. Now the iron beams and fetters have her on her back with her gams opened up up into the air. The iron cage 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 moans are made louder as they echo in the lil' prison. She is going to jizm again, tighter this time, and as the waves of orgasms take her assets she will get the exact perceiving she wants, bucking against the ruthless bondage.