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Iona Mercy is pent up in some strenuous iron restrain bondage and she can't get out. O.T. has her in a iron dog collar affixed to 2 pillars, one in front of and one behind her. As if that isn't enough, he farther locks her in place by handcuffing her wrists to the front pole and her ankles to the back pillar. Then, when her whimpering gets too annoying, he changes her bit gag to a cloth and gauze gag and pulls a plastic bag over her head so she can't breathe. This stance is notably joy because it gives the impression that Iona is divided heterosexual down the center of her body. By the time O.T. is done with her, her figure will sight like a Rorschach painting, with wounds instead of ink. The marks on Iona's butt from the strenuous cropping she is getting are mirrored on the left and right side of her body. A true work of art. When O.T. is done toying arts and crafts he moves her so she is arched backward, confined in place now by a pubes chain and fetters on her wrists. Then he heads to work on her hips with the cane, leaving crimson marks all over Iona's body. She's been through a bunch and O.T. determines that she has earned some joy for herself. He puts a iron pussy hook inwards of her and places the mighty celebrator right on her pearl and she is squealing for him in no time. Her figure dollars and shakes as she commences squirting all over the place. O.T. may have cut her in half but her entire figure is completely weary and used up.