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. She’s strapped into part of a metal bondage chair, leaning forward, her head bound tight to a metal bar. Her ass juts out. 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 Cherry Torn over the edge.
