Trophy Catch

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Out she goes. Zoey Laine most likely shouldn't just pick up and take whatever pills unusual fellows give her. She's too hot to not know better. Boys have been paying attention to her since she commenced growing those puffy little orbs of hers. Her sexy legs and cock-squeezing culo didn't go unnoticed in those yoga pants, either. Seconds after she downs what she thinks is ibuprofen she is on the floor. By the time she has come to O.T. has already examined every inch of her fabulous body. If he was just romping her she would most likely hate it less. O.T. has never been all that interested in getting his stiffy wet, no matter how hot of a lump of culo he just reeled in. Instead he has a fresh head cell he'd like her to try out for him. Barbed rope and cold iron shell her, she can watch them right in front of her eyes. She knows that the rusted spikes won't just hop out and get her, but she can't help but be appalled with them so close to her pretty face. She doesn't dare flail too much as her captor lashes her culo and uses a faux-cock to fuck her pussy. She's too worried about what this bondage helmet will do to her if she unbalances it. Zoey should be more worried about what O.T. is going to do to her. He isn't some cold lump of steel, content to just hold her in place and not have any fun. He wants to hear her groan and when the flogger doesn't do the trick well enough he has slew of other ways to get her yelling.