Aria is wearing her cowgirl hat, tube top, denim mini skort & cowboy boots. She stands up & Nyxon walks in with a few hanks of jute rope & tosses them on the couch. The next scene opens with Aria now tied in a “prisoner belt shibari tie”. Nyxon stuffs Aria’a mouth & places an otm bandana gag on her. Next, Nyxon walks Aria around the room for about a minute, then proceeds to add more rope eventually tying Aria in a balltie. Finally, Nyxon leaves the room & Aria struggles around in her binds.
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Caged Meat

We are often asked what happens to cunts when not being used. You might call this a little behind-the-scenes peek into how meat is stored. To be clear, this is anything but comfortable and Blossom has spend hours being tortured and degraded for your entertainment.

Now BrutalMaster has some other work to do and the bitch needs to be put away – she continues her suffering but in a different way. The cunt is now caged and to add to her torment, BrutalMaster has chained her hands behind her outside the cage severely limiting her movement.

Of course, just for fun, she is occasionally tormented just to remind her that nothing is about her and everything is about her suffering.

You requested more behind-the-scenes in HELL! so here you go.

Blossom is just an animal Caged.
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The harder he binds her, the quicker she cums. Crucified, taped, and electrified, cowgirl drips with desire in these truly “stimulating” shoots.
Rendered helpless with unyielding metal around her neck and wrists, she exhausts herself attempting to find a comfortable position. A metal bar spreads her legs, making the struggle even more difficult.

Wrists are locked to the center of the spreader, forcing cowgirl into a hunch. Fallen onto her back, she thrashes about, powerless to escape the dildo that penetrates her slippery cunt.
PD takes advantage of his captive’s vulnerable state, flogging her pussy and filling it with a hook. Reveling in her helplessness, cowgirl comes almost immediately with the touch of a vibrator.

In the next scene, she is impaled on a dildo, straddling a wooden beam. PD pulls her arms tightly together and binds them straight behind her back. Her legs are bent and secured, shifting her weight to her sensitive pussy. The vibrator distracts her from the painful predicament.

Fettered to a cross, cowgirl alternates between two torturous positions but finds little relief. Gasping and groaning, she straightens bent knees and lifts herself into an excruciating stand. PD antagonizes her further, dragging a copper wand across her milky skin. Back arched, body trembling, cowgirl tosses her head in horror at the unending torture.
She is then strapped down to a metal chair and thoroughly gagged for more abuse. PD buckles a rubber mask onto her head and flogs her tits and pussy while she struggles to breathe through a tiny tube.
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He thinks of the Insex set as an autopsy room, where bodies are laid out, sliced, and cracked open. He thinks of the show as vivisection, as a method of discovery, every ounce of female flesh – a book. And her hair falling down about her throat, her painted lips and eyes, the endless fabric of young skin, her limbs, fingers, hair, cunt – a library.

He studies her. He tests her endurance during the first hour with metal, the next hour with wrap after wrap of rope, and for the third hour, rubber. He weighs her down, ties her body into knots, encases her, then relents. After he is finished with the first torments, he begins.

She is determined to survive the removal of layers, the loss of skin, the dissection of her outer layers. This is how he searches for that which he can not help but desire. Her.

The gentle slope of her shoulders when her arms are bound back. Her eyes moist, like she’s a lake, an ocean, spilling out, overflowing, influenced not by him, or any man on earth. She is under the influence of the moon.
Her cunt goes wet with wanting, the expectation of ropes. Her breasts are wrapped, those insatiable nippled fruits, prepped for their ordeal. They grow livid as the seconds pass, as the pressure grows, as the weight of her body hangs, and her purpled breasts are wrung dry.
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He thinks of the Insex set as an autopsy room, where bodies are laid out, sliced, and cracked open. He thinks of the show as vivisection, as a method of discovery, every ounce of female flesh – a book. And her hair falling down about her throat, her painted lips and eyes, the endless fabric of young skin, her limbs, fingers, hair, cunt – a library.

He studies her. He tests her endurance during the first hour with metal, the next hour with wrap after wrap of rope, and for the third hour, rubber. He weighs her down, ties her body into knots, encases her, then relents. After he is finished with the first torments, he begins.

She is determined to survive the removal of layers, the loss of skin, the dissection of her outer layers. This is how he searches for that which he can not help but desire.
Her.

The gentle slope of her shoulders when her arms are bound back. Her eyes moist, like she’s a lake, an ocean, spilling out, overflowing, influenced not by him, or any man on earth. She is under the influence of the moon.

Her cunt goes wet with wanting, the expectation of ropes. Her breasts are wrapped, those insatiable nippled fruits, prepped for their ordeal. They grow livid as the seconds pass, as the pressure grows, as the weight of her body hangs, and her purpled breasts are wrung dry.
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He thinks of the Insex set as an autopsy room, where bodies are laid out, sliced, and cracked open. He thinks of the show as vivisection, as a method of discovery, every ounce of female flesh – a book. And her hair falling down about her throat, her painted lips and eyes, the endless fabric of young skin, her limbs, fingers, hair, cunt – a library.

He studies her. He tests her endurance during the first hour with metal, the next hour with wrap after wrap of rope, and for the third hour, rubber. He weighs her down, ties her body into knots, encases her, then relents. After he is finished with the first torments, he begins.

She is determined to survive the removal of layers, the loss of skin, the dissection of her outer layers. This is how he searches for that which he can not help but desire.
Her.

The gentle slope of her shoulders when her arms are bound back. Her eyes moist, like she’s a lake, an ocean, spilling out, overflowing, influenced not by him, or any man on earth. She is under the influence of the moon.

Her cunt goes wet with wanting, the expectation of ropes. Her breasts are wrapped, those insatiable nippled fruits, prepped for their ordeal. They grow livid as the seconds pass, as the pressure grows, as the weight of her body hangs, and her purpled breasts are wrung dry.

He is machination, hooks and pulleys, chain and rope. He is scalpels and tongs. He is forceps groping, grasping folds of flesh, mounded flesh – Her. He sucks her fluids, her scent of sex and want. He drinks her. His fingers dive inside of her, manipulate breasts. He splits her in two from her waist to her chin and begins a rapid excoriation of muscle and bone.
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This is a Custom Clip. It opens where Sydney is checking the situation of the pipes with the plumber. Sydney had to call a plumber since her bathroom pipes fell into a mishap. “Oh dear, we can’t have this situation in my house. Ah, my fiancee is ringing me. Give me a sec.” she says. Sydney was wearing very provocative clothing so the plumber can’t help but stare at her legs and ass as she walked away and slightly getting turned on. The work was finally done and Sydney asks for the final bill. She goes, “$1500?! For that hour’s worth of work?! Are you fucking kidding me?? I can’t afford this! There must be another way mister. Let’s work something out.”
The plumber looks down at her chest, giving her the signal. “Oh I see. That could work. My fiancee won’t be home for another 30 minutes. Let’s make this quick.” she blurted. Sydney ushered the plumber into the master’s bedroom where they did the deed. She was obviously having fun and not regretting a single moment of this quick bliss. “You have a nice dick for a plumber mister” she commented. Suddenly, the garage door slammed closed and then…
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