Kendra's Pail Kendra James

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Her wrists are cuffed and elevated high behind her. She's masked and shackled. PD lets her fuss and sweat for a while. After some caning and a lil' breathplay, Kendra's permitted to sit. This is the real beginning, when the torture starts. Hundreds of spikes on the seat, back, and forearm rests of the chair sting into her mushy flesh. A iron dog collar affixed to the chair immobilizes her neck. When she turns down to mayo from a water bottle, a corset is strapped onto her head, a tube inserted into her mouth. He pours water into a funnel, choking her somewhat like drowning. She makes complaints that she has to pee. It cascades out from the goods of her pantyhose, pattering against the iron of a bucket underneath her. Her back is fettered firmly to the spikes of the chair. Mr. Pogo romps her jaws and cunt, and a vibro hums against her pussy. She attempts to stay still, but it's impossible. The spikes make numerous marks on her skin. She comes, mewing like a cat. Fettered to a iron bed, she can't get comfortable. He pushes her pelvis upward with a ginormous block of wood. Cropped on her cooter then vibrated, her body twists and pulls against the chains. She gulps at the air. Kendra comes again, her cooter flushed and rosy.