PD uses two harsh forms of restraint, the fiddle and the stocks, illustrating how easy it is to debilitate the body - and the mind.

Kali's locked in the fiddle. PD shows up with a little bag of white powder, dumping it within her reach. And even though she can touch it with her fingers, the fiddle prevents her from getting it to her mouth. So PD feeds it to her on the head of his penis, fucking her mouth hole first, and then her cunt. To entice her, he spreads more powder on the floor, letting her desire take control so he can have fun with the cattle prod.

Stocks are locked onto her neck and wrists. Her knees are shackled to the bottom of the stocks. She can hardly move around. A metal tube is locked in her mouth. After trying to get comfortable, she falls onto her back and starts choking on her own saliva. As he's vibrating her, she begs to come. He tells her he doesn't care if she comes or not. It's a total mindfuck - the stocks, the vulnerability, how he constantly changes the rules, and how you never know what he's going to do.

Maybe sometimes he wonders why he likes to hurt them. The women. Why he likes to make them not quite human. With this one, he's decided he'll immobilize her mouth, thereby immobilizing her flesh. Because her flesh controls him, those breasts that he ties so tight they balloon. He beats them. Tweaks them. Foamy drool spills down her chin. She squirms. She screams. And then he plays with her clit and she begs for it. She moans. And when she comes, she screams again. It's not that different - the pain and the pleasure. And besides, maybe he likes the screams.

He screws her mouth to the floor. He whips her. He canes her. Harsh marks crisscross all over her body, spiking her into the never never land of love. Her pussy swells. She's lost all sense. She's hysterical. He spanks her ass till it's red like a baboon in heat. Pure animal. Pure flesh. Pure love.

The stocks are made of thick wood, heavy. They hold her wrists and neck. She's chained to a post. This is how people go mad. Because there's no relief. No end. Nothing but the unrelenting pain of being alive. He stuffs food into her mouth until she overflows. She tries her best. But it will never be enough. Not for her or for him. At some point he'll make it worse. It always gets worse. Because he's restless. So he wanders about, held in thrall, lost in her garden of misery.

A body without a head. That's how she looks on this side of the wall. Her head is on the other side. She's trapped this way close to the floor so that she lies on her stomach. Please let me out, please, she screams, but nobody comes, In time, PD arrives. Beg me to suck it, he says as he cradles her head and rubs himself. But she says nothing. Then he's on the other side of the wall. A cane strikes flesh. She begs loud and clear.

He forces her to drink from a pan. Then holds her face underwater. He makes her undress her headless body and fucks her with Mr. Pogo as he canes her ass. A vibrator buzzes against her clit as Mr. Pogo slowly sinks into her asshole. Looks like we've got ourselves another fuckhole, he says.

She's chained spread-eagle on a mattress, a rusty chastity belt locked in place. A wide leather collar and skintight latex hood make her look surreal, idealized. He adds a second piece of latex over her nose, mouth, and chin then vibrates her clit. She's very wet.

calico's on her stomach now, still chained four ways, but with a barrel beneath her stomach. An ass-hook is attached to a head harness, pulling her head backward. After he makes her come, he canes the backs of her thighs, her ass, and the soles of her feet. It's painful, but calico has learned a thing or two about pain.

Held on her feet by the shoulder straps of a strait jacket, she balances on a barrel, a tenuous position. From the center of an ankle spreader a pipe topped with a dildo pushes inside her cunt. PD shocks her with the taser. But when he aims toward her pussy, she loses balance. calico swings in the air.

She's sitting, naked, her ankles in bilbos, a hood tight to her head. Thick, wooden stocks hold her neck and wrists. They're heavy, the stocks. She slowly sinks backward under the weight of them. He whips her. I told you to stay sitting up, he says. And as he circles her, whipping, he lays a bed of spikes on the floor behind her. To wear her down. To get her to agree to anything. You got one minute to get me off, he says. She sucks his cock. But she's not frantic. She's not yet frightened enough. He walks away.

When you're sucking cock, your mouth is a vagina, he says. She's locked in bilbos. A steel bit with a long metal tongue makes her gag. Drools runs from her mouth. He tortures her feet, first with a short stick, but then with a cigarette, ashing in her mouth. After he canes her feet, she thrusts her mouth up and down his cock, taking it deep. Now it's clear. She's plenty frightened.

Her body hangs in a frame that holds her body. It is on a pivot. So now he can lower her so that her mouth is cock height. And she sucks. Then her turns her upside down and she sucks again. Grasping her ankles, he rams his cock into her cunt, fucking her. This is how it goes for her. Mouth, cunt, mouth, cunt. He keeps fucking and fucking.

She's bent over, strapped to a post by her neck. He finishes himself off. brina gets a facial.

Her wrists, ankles, and neck are cuffed to a dentist chair. She's semi-reclined - a comfortable position. Before the shoot is over, sybil's wracked with pain. Even a whipping is preferable to what PD dishes out. His specialty. Bondage as torture.

The bit of the new metal head harness makes her gag over and over. It wrenches the ribs, the chest, the organs of the body. Then PD indulges in a little waterboarding. It's just terror. Nothing horrible. Not yet. When he vibrates her she comes like an animal, thrusting her cunt upward, like she could eat his arm with her cunt. It's just another PD trick, those orgasms. The doorway to Hell.

It's an angst machine. A body breaker. He uses bilbos to fold her body. Nothing is soft. Nothing forgiving. And she gags repeatedly from the metal piece in her mouth. Drool runs down her chin like someone turned on a faucet. When he canes her, it's a relief. Because now it's perfect - her misery.

Locked onto a cross with the force of her weight bearing down on a sharp edge, she's undone. But this time PD has no mercy. Do you want to go back in the bilbos? he says. She sobs. When he whips her, she roars with pain. And when she comes, she roars with the same animal roar like she's busting out, exploding into some new creature made of nothing but devastation and want. She thanks him in her subservient sybil voice, because, she probably thinks - now it's over. But PD has other plans. A half hour on the cross, he says.

The going price for orgasm?

She's waiting -

her ankles shackled to the floor. The bar of a set of bilbos has been used as a bit so that drool spills out her mouth. Her wrists are locked on either side. When he shows up, he canes her foot, but maybe it's not so bad. Anything is better than being left alone in the barn like that. Especially if you're an attention slut.

She's strapped at the neck, wrists, elbows, waist, and ankles into a metal chair. Then he suspends her, chair and all. He props a long Mr. Pogo inside her and vibrates her. The head of the vibrator completely disappears in her pussy. And she's wet. Very, very wet.

In PD's new play room - the one with electro-torture devices and lots of water features - she's shackled onto a metal bondage chair. Metal electrodes are screwed onto her nipples. And a metal dildo with wires attached goes up her cunt. He gently fingers her clit until it's stiff and hard. Then he turns on the current and lets it run.

A plastic bag covers her head. He pulls it tight until it forms to her face. He loosens it for a moment. Tightens. Loosens. Then he drenches her with water. To increase conductivity, he tells her. He turns up the current. And now she's screaming. A hose shoots water at her pussy. More screams. He turns off the hose and leaves. She's soaked. Worn out. But once more she finds herself

Waiting -

She's straining, dancing on her tiptoes in the barn. Two tight balloons of flesh bauble on her chest - her breasts bound tight with leather. They're attached to a hoist. Her elbows and wrists have been bound behind her back. He shoves a bed of spikes beneath her delicate feet.

Tell me how much you want to suck it, he says, meaning his cock, of course. The pain from her feet makes tears fall from her eyes. Drool runs to her chin. He lowers her to her knees so she can service him. When he's hard and huge, he sits her in his lap and she wiggles. She squirms. All for his enjoyment.

She's strapped into part of a metal bondage chair, leaning forward, her head bound tight to a metal bar. Her ass juts out. He ties her nipples downward and fucks her face-hole, then fucks her cunt. As he tongues her asshole, he vibrates her. He buries his face in her cunt. After she comes, a thick string of drool and foam hang from her mouth.

With her wrists and ankles locked in institutional restraints, she sits in tyler's trolley, her head locked in stocks. A tent caterpillar slowly crawls along her skin. At first it's only one worm. Then two. Before long, he's dumping a whole nest of worms on her face. A ring gag holds her mouth open. She cries, exhausted. After all, it's been four long days. It's the worms that finally push cherrytorn over the edge.

You've got to hand it to her. She's one tough chick.

All of her flesh is at his disposal. PD locks Bronte to the floor of the barn so that he can take his time and savor every sexy morsel.

He sets a stool down over her body and sits at his ease, caning and whipping her pussy, her nipples - wherever he feels like hurting her. Once he's sensitized her skin, he clamps her nipples and labia, pulling them to each side, her pussy wide like a gaping mouth.

Before the clamps, Bronte could hardly move. Now she's afraid to move. He fucks her with Mr. Pogo and places the vibrator against her clit. Did you come? he demands when he detects a spasm in her vagina. Maybe just a little, she says as he keeps vibrating her. She comes over and over, with hardly a breath between orgasms.

He locks her upper body in bilbos - one bar behind her back holding her elbows, another bar locking her wrists to her neck in front. He sits in a chair in front of her, fucking her mouth with Mr. Pogo, gagging her with dildo as she plays with herself.

After tying her hair and hoisting her onto her toes, he takes out the singletail and works her over. She dances on her toes. And he keeps whipping.

She's standing, fully clothed and wearing white tennies, her neck chained in four directions. When PD shows up, grabbing at her body, she tries to push him away. So PD makes things harder for her. He uses a whip to force her to take off her blouse. Chains clank as he tightens each one in turn, pulling her neck up higher.

Play with yourself, he says. Keep your eyes on me and rub your cunt. Dance, grind. Fuck yourself or I'll start whipping it. Rub your clit. Show me your hole. Play with me. Get it hard.

Tell me what you want me to do to you, he says at last. But she won't answer. And after he locks her wrists outward then one ankle high in the air, he uses the cattle prod and a cane. She wiggles and dances trying to get away. But she won't say a word. Not even when he buries the tips of the cattle prod in her labia.

So PD decides for her. And of course she's completely at his mercy. And of course she's naked and folded in half so he can get to her holes. And he fucks her hard with a dildo and vibrates her clit. And he canes her. And he whips her pussy. Then he leaves her. She's alone with her pussy flushed and wet. And she can't get out. She can't move except just a little - her fingers.

She lies on her back in a copper tub, her wrists and ankles cuffed to the grate chained over the top. In the room surrounding her tub, shut off valves and hoses attach to the walls. It's clear this room has a special use. He sits on top of the tub, his dick dropping through the grate. Tongue my asshole, he says. Get me hard, but if I get bored, see those electrodes over there? You know what will happen.

She tries her best. But it's not good enough.

He blasts her pussy with a hard stream of water. The tub slowly fills. As she gasps for air, breathing through a tube, he fucks her with Mr. Pogo.

She's locked onto a bed wearing a canvas hood and a strait jacket with so many straps, it's a bondage lover's dream. He walks her into the night, bringing her to the barn for storage. In the morning, she's inside the metal birdhouse. He opens the Glory Hole. Partly obscured, her face appears as she sucks his cock.

I have to torture you in order to come, he says. Whatever you like, she replies. He hoists her in the air, spreading her legs, whipping her. She writhes in the air, trying to protect her pussy.

Now she sucks him with renewed fervor. He fucks her, but suddenly grows annoyed and walks away. She's worn out, alone, her glazed eyes staring in the direction where he disappeared.