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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 attached 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 pillar and her ankles to the back pillar. Then, when her whining 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 gay-for-pay down the center of her body. By the time O.T. is done with her, her figure will glance like a Rorschach painting, with wounds instead of ink. The marks on Iona's caboose from the strenuous flogging 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 bent backward, restricted 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 thru 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 strong celebrator right on her pearl and she is bellowing for him in no time. Her figure dollars and jiggles as she starts unloading all over the place. O.T. may have cut her in half but her whole figure is entirely weary and used up.