Trophy Catch

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Out she goes. Zoey Laine very likely shouldn't just pick up and take whatever pills unusual men give her. She's too hot to not know better. Dudes have been paying attention to her since she began getting bigger those pointy tiny titties of hers. Her sumptuous gams and tight booty 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 studied every inch of her fabulous body. If he was just plowing her she would very likely hate it less. O.T. has never been all that interested in getting his dick wet, no matter how hot of a lump of booty he just reeled in. Instead he has a fresh head box he'd like her to attempt out for him. Barbed rope and cold iron envelope her, she can witness them right in front of her eyes. She knows that the rusted spikes won't just jump out and get her, but she can't help but be horrified with them so close to her pretty face. She doesn't dare flail too much as her captor canes her booty and uses a fuck stick to fuck her pussy. She's too concerned about what this bondage helmet will do to her if she unbalances it. Zoey should be more concerned 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 bellow and when the cat o' nine tails doesn't do the trick well enough he has slew of other ways to get her yelling.