Trophy Catch - Zoey Laine

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Out she goes. Zoey Laine very likely shouldn't just pick up and take whatever pills unusual dudes give her. She's too super-steamy to not know better. dudes have been paying attention to her since she began getting larger those puffy lil' tits of hers. Her sumptuous gams and cock-squeezing arse 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 investigated every inch of her beautiful body. If he was just fucking her she would very likely hate it less. O.T. has never been all that interested in getting his man sausage wet, no matter how super-steamy of a lump of arse he just reeled in. Instead he has a fresh head box he'd like her to attempt out for him. Barbed string and cold metal sheath her, she can watch them right in front of her eyes. She knows that the rusted spikes won't just leap 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 crops her arse and uses a fake penis to tear up her pussy. She's too concerned about what this restrain 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 shriek and when the flogger doesn't do the trick well enough he has slew of other ways to get her yelling.