Sexy redhead Sarah Brooke is laying on a foil lined table with red hoot head lamps suspended just a foot above her hot body. Her wrists and ankles are locked in tight leather cuffs with her ankle cuffs padlocked to a set of rings mounted at the base of the table keeping her legs spread apart. Her wrists are locked in another set of leather cuffs padlocked to a short wooden dowel attached to a chain running up to a winch above her head. She begs and cries into her cleave gag as I slowly crank the winch pulling and stretching her tighter and tighter until her helpless body is stretched to her...

Sexy redhead Sarah Brooke is laying on a foil lined table with red hoot head lamps suspended just a foot above her hot body. Her wrists and ankles are locked in tight leather cuffs with her ankle cuffs padlocked to a set of rings mounted at the base of the table keeping her legs spread apart. Her wrists are locked in another set of leather cuffs padlocked to a short wooden dowel attached to a chain running up to a winch above her head. She begs and cries into her cleave gag as I slowly crank the winch pulling and stretching her tighter and tighter until her helpless body is stretched to her limits. I stroke her bound oiled body informing my prey that she will be simmered and roasted. Poor Sarah can barely one but me to hear her pitiful cries for help. The heat begins to take is toll on her stretched and helpless body as her grows weaker and weaker from dehydration. She feels her brain begin to cook and makes one last desperate struggle to free herself from the table but it is hopeless there is no escape as she gives up the fight and her eyes roll back in her head waiting for her inevitable end to come. I walk into and turn the crank a few more knotches until Sarah screams through her gag at being stretched so savagely. I spray cooking oil over her tightly stretched body a thermometer probe into Sarah's pussy to check her temperature. I see it will be a few more hours before she is roasted to perfection. I pick up my cutlery and sharpening steel and begin to hone it while poor Sarah watches in horror. I tell the frightened bound beauty that the more she struggles and the more intense the the more tender the meat. I touch my cutlery at poor Sarah's throat and tell her I could put her out of her misery and make it a quick but that will spoil the fun and make her meat less tender. I laugh and leave poor Sarah slowly roasting alive on the table.