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Shackled to a metal bed, her steel collar digs to her chin. Her panties are glimpsed from the corners between her thighs. And since she is tickled and canes by him it’s clear. The primacy of in mind Her. A fucking machine is raised into place. Embedded in steel and machine, she comes. Can it be his lust that compels him? Unbridled desire? Desperation? Or does he so fear this animal, that he retains her clasped in metal that can’t want, can’t feel, cannot love, can’t lose?She’s locked. Metal gag against her delicate lips. She’s powerful, although metal dismaies her, do not you think? Because she is lovely. You can not stop thinking about her nipples, her breasts, her ass. From where you sit viewing her on your screen, even, you smell her, so don’t you? She is flogged by him. He controls everything. He controls nothing.The Pear slips inside her. He also turns the key to lock it. It is a work of art. A mechanism that is complex. Much like her. That’s what he thinks. That it’s as simple loosening her power. He practices the sensual art of self-deception. The Pear goes in, filling her cunt where even the gods stumble that that vacuum, space, which everything and nothing place. The handle of this Pear is flipped. Whose hand turns that the key? Whose desire? Whose grief? The Pear is sucked inward. Clamps bite to her nipples. And her body flashes in pleasure. She’s come. Her palms bend, like beckoning.The Animal rises.