Shackled and Tamed

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Dixon Mason sums up the allure of instrument restrain bondage perfectly. With cable there is shake room, there is a opportunity to wriggle 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 roped with tape. It isn't the way she thought this was going to start, but fastly it starts to turn into something else. A iron band 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 loosen her gams or even slouch sans the iron pulling against her throat. Worse, she can't budge far from where she is. PD knows it and takes utter advantage, flagellating her rump mercilessly. When the iron is around her wrists and ankles she moves down to the floor. The pub that keeps her gams apart exposes her vagina to a aggressive caning. Her boobies are strapped off to make them more fragile for their own abuse. She talked about it earlier, the effect restrain bondage and discipline has on her body. The wounds haven't even began to shape but her vagina is cascading wet. She isn't fairly able to jizm from the agony but the Magic wand on her clitoris will get her the rest of the way there. Dixon's a bit tired after her orgasms, but PD's friend Masturbate Strike is here and he hasn't had his turn with her yet. Now the iron pubs 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 caneing down on her legs, even her own screams are made louder as they echo in the lil' prison. She is going to jizm again, harder this time, and as the wags of ejaculations take her assets she will get the exact feeling she wants, bucking against the merciless bondage.