Maggie Mead

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Maggie told PD to do whatever came to mind. If she had known what kind of mind she was dealing with she would never have used those words. The last thing she watches before PD puts the spandex hood over her face is him fastening one half of an electrical current to her toes. The circuit is concluded shortly later, while she moans in the dark, by a iron massager that he can run all over her body. The tabouret he has her roped to is not just for decoration. The whole thing complies to make repositioning her fuck-holes as ordinary as possible. When he wants to smash her face he just leans the top forth under her throat is down at cock level. If he wants to plumb her slit he leans her back to shove her gash forward. When it is time for the humping machine to have a turn he rolls the wheel again to give it a nicer angle. The other devious implements PD uses are nearly too porked up to mention. The jerking machine, for one, has her nips all leaned out of shape. The gas mask has her gasping for new air and only coming up with a foul stench that PD provided. The next time Maggie and PD get together she may be more careful about the terms of their encounter, but, judging from how much she liked what he did to her this time, I doubt it.