When confined by metal, the flesh and the mind must yield. In Rammed 2, felonie learns the lessons of the cage.

She's been immobilized for hours. The head cage with a metal bit holds her head even more still. Clamps on her labia are weighed down with chain. Her pussy's swollen, engorged from all her orgasms.

Shocked by the cattle prod, she screams – a single long scream punctuated by each snap of the prod. She sobs, and the tenor of her scream changes, slightly warped, an unsettling sound. The vibrator nearly disappears inside the swelled lips of her pussy.

Another orgasm, and another. PD slips his hand inside of her up to the knuckles. He rams all of her holes and she comes again, over-stimulated into some never-never land of sexual exhaustion.

Now she's standing, tightly strapped with leather, held up by her hair. A singletail and the cattle prod bring her to tears again. She begs PD to let her down. She promises him – anything, you can do anything – He tells her she must make herself stop crying. Her face slowly reduces. It becomes a face that is not crying. She exchanges one unbearable condition for another. The dissolution of one self. The emergence of another.

Karma
translation - Action

Still breathless from her danse macabre at Hardtied, pinky stands en pointe in toeboots. She clutches the chain around her neck. It keeps her on her toes as she wavers back and forth. A slick of drool streams from her chin to her pussy.

PD tosses a karmic puzzle at her feet – the pieces of a chair. He orders her to put it together. As pinky works, she builds what is to become the instrument of her torture. We get glimpses. A curved backrest studded with spikes. Rows of spikes on the arm rests. A flat, emotionless seat loaded with flesh-eating spikes.

As a consequence of her action (the construction of the chair), pinky must sit in the chair, her ankles spread wide and shackled, her wrists locked tightly to the arm rests.

Now it's a waiting game. PD lets gravity do its work. pinky squirms. She sobs just a little. She refuses an orgasm in her despair. When she's caned, her screams are only half human. PD has barely broken a sweat. Time and gravity. Sometimes that's all it takes.

He chains her more tightly to the chair and its spikes. Rain pounds the barn roof. A portent? pinky's soaked. Droplets of water coalesce and stream down her naked body. She's motionless in the chair. She's discovered that it's less painful not to move.

The cattle prod shocks her over and over. pinky's shrieks stab the silence after the rain. And now the vibrator on her pussy. She hates it. She loves it. PD forces her to orgasm.

One karmic turn finished. In the next moment, another turn begins.

PD took the metal frame and strapped me in; then spun me round and round. He wanted me to do something, which I still refused, so he tortured me some, caning, flogging, spinning. The spinning finally did me in. It's a scary feeling, being strapped into something and feeling helpless, unable to get out, and being flipped around and around, feeling like you're going to fall on your face sometime, inevitably. Exhilarating too in a way, and you think, oh it's not so bad, until it happens again and again, and then you realize no, no more. So i reluctantly gave in, and i hated feeling like I'd given in, so i became subdued.

Next, he took me out and stuck me into a hood, and I had a panic attack. I felt like I couldn't breathe and was suffocating, and didn't think I could handle it. After a bit of coaxing, I finally relented and agreed to try it again. The second time wasn't as bad, but I still felt like I was going to suffocate, and I was scared. He finally let me out of the hood after what felt like an eternity, and stuck me into a metal frame cage. Then he zapped me for a bit and hoisted me into the air. Okay, so here, another thing; i am scared to death of heights. especially in a little cage, and despite my misgivings, i was stuck in the cage, so i screamed as he pulled me higher and higher into the air, until I was almost at the top of the barn. He left me there screaming.

The day's over, and it's almost time to go home. I feel like I've been relieved of something again this trip. Everytime I come here, there's usually a session or two that is more intense than the others, and I feel cleansed afterwards. Usually it has to do with some sort of psychological trauma, some sort of major fear. They challenge me here though, and coax me to face my fears, and I feel like I really do end up facing myself ultimately, and it's a wonderful feeling. It's something therapy never could do, but it's interesting about this world, it offers something so extreme, so out of the ordinary, it allows you to be somebody for a moment. It more than anything, relieves you. And for me, allows me to really trust people again, for a little while at least. I can't wait to come back for another session!

You leave the farm awed, never having realized there was a whole different world out there, behind closed doors. It's time to go back home to the ordinary, to your life. You're glad to go back, but you have a few things to ponder now, thoughts and ideas run through your mind, new doors have been opened to you, your eyes opened. What will you do? The figure says "goodbye, you're always welcome back!" Maybe you will be back.

In part one of Rammed, PD sets an agonizing pace. Felony's confined in a cage, hanging in the barn for hours. Every step plays like a psychological thriller as PD slowly deconstructs felony's will to resist.

In the beginning, PD lets felony's confinement do its work. Then he gives her an orgasm. Just a little one. Just enough to relax her.

She's anally impaled, rammed with a rigid set of stainless steel ass beads. Using forceps, PD grasps her tongue and ties it outward. This presses her neck against the steel of the cage. Then vaginal impalement and she's given another orgasm, more intense.

The cane. Then the cattle prod. PD shocks felony slowly, decisively, letting her wait for each shock. The devil's horns rest on either side of her cunt. She begs for another orgasm. He grants it. But first he administers that heretical shock.

The vibrator again. At the same time, he chokes her by forcing her throat hard against the bar of her cage. Another orgasm, this one huge. Now he teaches her to flip her tongue upward when she's ready to be shocked or choked. PD sucks felony into her own torture, winning her compliance and complicity.

She's sprayed down with cold water. One more orgasm puts felony in la-la land. PD's permanently altered her inner terrain. She's still caged. PD walks free.

Lots of energy and lots of pain games. Catherine dives recklessly into her headspace, dropping headlong into the eye of a storm. Pd manhandles her. He attaches the hoist to the rope that ties her wrists to her neck and punches her in the stomach. He kicks her. He pummels her with Mr. Pogo. Catherine eats it up.

A metal gag goes deep into the back of Catherine's mouth, pressing down the tongue. Drool runs everywhere. PD hoists her onto her toes with the gag. He's relentless, locking her head and wrists in stocks. A cane, singletail, a pussy whip. As time goes on, there isn't much PD doesn't hurt her with. He clamps her labia to Mr. Pogo then gets her off. But Catherine forgot to ask permission.

Her ass hangs down through a hole. She's hooded and locked in place. The cattle prod works its terror on her. She's caned, smothered, and caned again as wire hooks twist her face into a freaky clownish grin. Mr. Pogo desecrates her ass, held in place by labia clamps again. She's vibrated as he canes her labia. She comes big.

Then she's upside down with her ass up in the air. He canes her with a vengeance. I'm sorry, she screams over and over. I'm sorry, sorry, sorry.

You'd never know what went on behind closed doors to look at these people. Or as the case may be, inside barns and out in the empty farmlands. Another ordinary day of work, on the outside, the house looks nice and welcoming, the land looks like it's being worked on. Pass through the doors, immediately you're assaulted with visions of things you wouldn't have dreamed of. The bag of ropes, toys, tools lying open on the ground. As you move further in, the pulley system in the kitchen, the cage in the dining room, restraints lying around all over. And you start thinking to yourself, what really goes on behind closed doors?

You peek into the barn; it looks like any other barn from the outside, but no sound except some sort of mechanical buzz, but you're not entirely sure, and you see to your surprise, it's been converted into some sort of metalworking and woodworking workshop, with tons and tons of devices around. Come out the back of the barn, and all you see is a pond, farmlands, and up in the hills, some cows grazing.

Come out in puzzlement, wondering what is going on here? See a familiar figure, or maybe not, working over a piece of wood, and he waves hello; it's your average joe (at least you thought). He says, "Welcome to the farm."

I came to the farm with no real idea of what it would be like, who would all be here, or what would actually happen. In a strange way, I trusted these people before I came here. (It did help too though, that I'd actually met them before and worked with them before). After deplaning in NYC, I took an hour and 15 minute cab ride to Brooklyn, where I met with the man who would take me to the farm. Of course, already hearing it be referenced as the farm, I was a little apprehensive, a little nervous, and "the farm" sounded almost ominous, menacing. The man, who I'd met several times before, working on the set, had never really said much to me, so that made me a little nervous as well. Luckily, he did have a traveling companion with him though, his girlfriend, so there was not too much awkwardness traveling up. We made a few stops on our way up, for food (airlines don't feed you!), and then coffee, before finally settling in for the long 3 hour drive to the village where the farm was located.

It took an hour to get out of the city. That 3 hour drive gave me some insight into this couple's relationship. It was interesting to watch, in a way. Whenever she wanted something, whatever she said, he would be completely absorbed in, would immediately pull over for her. It was something that would hold significance later on, I found.

Once we got out of the city, the rest of the drive flew by. Since there really wasn't any interaction between the couple and myself, I settled in to ponder what the farm would hold and dozed off. When I awoke, there was a thick fog, and the roads were dark and winding. Finally, in the distance, we saw lights, and as we pulled closer, it brought into view a beautiful white victorian house. We were at the farm.

The next morning got off to a slow start. Upon being awakened, we scurried out to breakfast, the couple wondering why the boss hadn't waited to go together. We pulled into a little diner; where everyone knew everyone else. Already I was charmed by this little village. I went over to say hi and dine with the boss, and his friend. When we got back, we headed over to the barn to start shooting. In the daylight, the country was more beautiful than I'd realized the night before. Picturesque trees with their leaves turning shades of orange in the distant hills, cows grazing on a nearby green hill, so much farmland everywhere, the red barn. Around the back of the farm, a glistening blue pond, it was almost like a painting. (Can you tell I haven't been in the country very often before? Really though, upstate is beautiful!)

We stepped inside the barn, and were immediately cooled off. It was a warm 80 degrees outside, so the coolness was a relief. If the weather had been any indication of what was to come, we would have known what to expect, perhaps, and been better prepared, but perhaps not. In any case, once inside, the boss and the man started to try out a few devices on me. After making all the necessary adjustments, we were ready to shoot. I don't need to go into detail on the particulars of that shoot, but basically, it was an abduction scene, involving a huge truck, and lots of cable ties, and a snare device. Throughout the course of the day, the crew members worked to find a rhythm with each other. They basically left me snared and hanging onto the wall, when the rain started. They thought it would be a great idea to leave me there in the rain of course, and I, hating water as I did, resisted the idea. They won, and left me hanging there, screaming my lungs out. I hate water. The next scene involved me being forced into some sort of metal restraints, and ending up in an outdoor cage. Because I didn't want to do what he wanted me to do. They of course thought it would be fun to leave me in the cage, and left me screaming all night. And then, finally, when he came back to let me out, (I thought), he threw rocks down at me. And then hosed me off. In the cage. I thought I was going to drown. Once again, I say; I hate water........

She's headless. Her body hangs upside down in the dim light of the barn. Her skin is smooth, pale. The lines of her body – lovely, perhaps made more beautiful by the stark image, the way her head is gone, disappearing into a hole in the center of a large box sitting on the barn floor.

As the shoot progresses, the images come in waves. . . Her shadow as she's hanging. . .Her face, partially obscured, seen through the glory-hole of a rusted metal box. . .The way she scurries like a spider with her ankles locked to her wrists. She's wearing heels, and he drags her by the hair. . . And then the slow construction of an image seen long ago. Was it Cowgirl? PD builds Calico in steps upward until she's held in the air, her cunt and pussy cupped by a curve of steel, her clit and labia protruding through a slit. Her legs are straight and locked outward, her hair tied upward. But in Calico's case, she's wearing the strangulation collar. Her arms and hands are strapped in reverse prayer position.

Throughout the set of images, PD whips her. He canes her ass in red streaks. Two strings of drool drip from her upper and lower lips. She comes, and then she can't come. Her clit's over-sensitized, then she's numb. She wiggles. She crawls. She moans, squeals, and screams. And at the end, when PD's caning her armpits because she lost a game she was set up to lose, she grits her teeth in anger.

No one will be able to see these marks, PD says as he whacks away. He forces her to thank him. And then he vibrates her one last time. Maybe she came. Or maybe she was just screaming from the pain. After all, her clit took quite a beating. She begs him to stop. And then it's over, the end.

But the images linger.

Mei is put to the test, confronted with tortures she's not faced in prior shoots and devices not seen since the long ago days of Insex.

Restrained and gagged in a small water tank where, many years ago, leeches swam in the water, mei's body heat fogs the glass. PD bolts the door closed. Then he opens the top hole and sprays Mei. As the tank slowly fills, mei strains her neck against the chain that holds her down. Water creeps above her chin. Panic fills her eyes. After PD has drained out the water, Mei sits and shivers. Waiting.

Cable-tied to the gyn table, Mei's blindfolded and pussy-whipped until her cunt begins to weep. PD tapes a small vibrator onto her clit. His gloved, lubed finger pushes into her ass. An inflatable assplug slides in and expands so that Mei cannot expel it. PD closes off her nostrils and connects the tube of the assplug to the tube of her gag. He ramps up the vibrator. Mei comes, breathing out the ass.

The ends of a pair of jumper cables appear in PD's hands. PD fits Mei's mouth with a dental gag and attaches one electrode. He slips a long metal dilator into her vagina. Now he has his second contact point. Drenching her pussy and cunt with water, he shocks her poor cunt. Then, voilà, PD holds the metal ball wand that was used so many years ago on YX and before that with Katrina. He runs it along Mei's clit and nipples. Just for the record, it feels like the slice of a knife. And there's nothing at all to smother Mei's screams.

Mei's rewards are the fucking machine, the goat milker, and a vibrator. You know Mei's had one hell of an orgasm when it's a fucking machine-stopper.

Catharsis – from the Greek, transliterated as kathairein “to purify, purge.”

sybil's catharsis seems to occur early as she struggles through bondage in which she stands upon metal piping. Another pipe pushes a dildo deep into her cunt. PD tortures her feet. As a fly lands on her face, tears stream down her cheeks. I wasn't crying from the pain, she says. Bondage feels like a safe place to let go. It's why I like this stuff.

But with PD, there's always more levels, more challenges. sybil faces her great fear – a singletail. It whips and cracks behind her, leaving red lines on her ass. As PD applies the vibrator afterward, she comes and comes and comes again. Moments of catharsis slip through in the form of astonishment.

PD places her in his new MACHINE. It's a piece of art, reductive in design. It forces sybil into a kneeling position. She's sprayed down. The stream of water blasts her cunt, her tits. She complains of being cold, so PD uses the cattle prod to warm her up. He tells her to stick out her tongue. The evil metal points of the prod edge toward her mouth. She pulls her tongue back. He tells her to stick it out and leave it there. The perfect submissive, she forces herself to comply. For her reward, a hook slides into her ass, milking tubes suction onto her tits, and the fucking machine growls into action. A vibrator purrs in her pussy.

Catharsis, catharsis, catharsis.

We last saw Sasha at Hardtied dragging a “nasty, filthy” cage into place so PD could stuff her inside it. Which is exactly where we find her at Infernal Restraints. The steel cage squeezes Sasha's flesh as PD questions her about her wild orgasms during her Hardtied shoot. She complains that she's sore from all that pleasure.

As PD hoists Sasha and her cage into the air, Sasha worries about bats. For anyone that hasn't heard PD's constant complaints about bat droppings on everything in the barn – YES, there are bats in that barn. And they are very active bats. So as Sasha dangles in her cage, bats become PD's friends. Because Sasha obsesses about the bats. And she gets her first taste of immobility and its agonies.

Mr. Pogo fucks her from below until she's foamy. She spews ejaculate with every plunge until she comes with a lot of screaming. Then PD rolls the rack into place, locking her ankles in stocks, tying her toes, and caning the soles of her feet. He turns the wheel of the rack until her arms go taut above her head. Working methodically as though made from the same stuff as his rack, PD penetrates Sasha with metal pipe and dildo. He stresses her neck with a simple piece of 2X4. The wheel of the rack tightens another click, then another. A vibrator is taped to the dildo. PD remains aloof as Sasha begs to come. He tightens her body yet one more click and flails her huge breasts with a flogger as Sasha's sensitive, brash pussy leaps into yet another orgasm. PD torments her hyperactive clit with the vibrator – as though it's an afterthought.