PKF Studios-Deadly Interrogation 3

DEADLY INTERROGATION III. Introducing Nicole Oring

This is the most fierce flick I have ever done. The acting is impressive. Even if gore and torment is not your main fetish thing, I still recommend it. The throttle is cruel as well. It is a great story and a good addition to the series.
She was in over her head and she would pay the ultimate price. Lovely, savvy, Nicole knew there were risks, but the level of risk---what they would actually do to her, was beyond her comprehension. Skimpy, scanty doll.
It was late. The office was closed. There she was, checking desks, looking for the login at Marcys desk so she would be able to get into her her bosses desk and get the folder. Then, she would be out. A done deal and a ample pay da
She always sensed security at this company was a lil' extraordinary, and when Mr. Extraordinary himself convulsed her back, requiring response, she sputtered out lies as finest she could. Unluckily, her story was flawed and the thick security guy embarked hitting the crap out of her. First-ever, a pistol flog. Once she was on the splendid floor, he manacled her and embarked with the rump kneeing. He violently crushed and trampled her until she was crying and delirious. Then, he stood her up, pistol to her funbag requiring she tell him who she worked for. Muffle. It was her finest defense--or so she was trained.
He humped and hammer her some more and when she was on the floor he put his 45cal Desert Eagle in her throat and asked nicely--nice for him at least. She just sobbed and he knocked her out and dragged her off.
Afterward, her had her over at warehouse house Six. This was his place--no workers, just the squad knew the deal. Tonight, he was alone--except for his guest. He would have some joy with her and she would tell him. They always did.
First-ever, he gave her the shot--a off the hook serum that enlargened endurance. He loved them awake while he was working on them. So, he strike her some more. When she slobber out a tooth, he knew it was time to stir on. She was a raunchy, although, whinny lil' slut. Instructed well. But she would break.
The plier were next. he penniless Trio of her thumbs before determining she was loud, but would squeal thru the 7 left before chatting. So, he moved the plier to her nips. They were humping out thru her cock-squeezing sweater like she was forever cold and a ideal fit inbetween the iron throat. It was nearly as if she was brave him with her sight of total oppressive domination. Oh well. He pinned down.
What happened next was horrible---for any onlooker---for him, nip were his breakfast and he torn this one right off and flashed it too her. Oh, oh, don’t pass out--not yet. She didn’t and with glee he moved on to the other one, same trick, different side. As he observed the blood pour out of the enormous hold that once restricted her minor damsel part, he looked down at his blood pliers. He knew what was next and slip the iron mouth inbetween her gams. The crunch, the rivulets of blood. She went out this time.
Afterward, he had her corded on an x-frame. His own design just for this objective. It was a temporary rack and using a ratchet, her palms were being pulled stiffer and harder. She was awake and groaning every moment. He was not even pleading her questions anymore--just having joy.
Next, the red-hot metal. Branding her on both jug and muff. She actually talked--or attempted to, but the info was nothing. Nothing. So, he kept it up. Now the iron pipe--working her over, leaving no spot un beat. The finest was the one to the side of her head. Every time, blood shot--pouring, drooling out of her jaws. Her eyes spinning up, bellows, groans. Throaty sounds of tyranny. Music to his ears.
The strike was next. It was tapered at one end, so he used it with precision embarking with her ankles--hitting them over and over and over until the skin was ripped chucks and her bones were violated. He moved on to her other ankle, cracking them both. Then, he just strike her randomly all over, making massive blood-soaked slots in her assets. Then, he whacked her on the head. She was nearly out when he determined to conclude her. He took hold of her jaws, throttling her as blood poured out of her gullet and her eyes spinned up. Then, she was still.
He called his manager to report what he learned. Only, in the background, he could not watch, she violated her eyes open--the hastily pretended to be dead as he untiled her and let her flop to the floor. He left.
She shoved herself up, pulling herself forth, gliding on her own blood, gams nearly useless--broken ankles. She made it too the table, found his phone, and planned to grip the gun. Making the call, she was in scare mode--help, help. But, then the wood club knocked her out.
He got fortunate. He will tell his bosses that he knew she was not dead but desired her to get to the phone. Now he had the number. Actually, he was not that smart--but it worked out anyhow. He took hold of the barb rope and packaged it around her neck. She struggled intensively against it. The rope was cutting deep into her neck and blood poured out. She was attempting so rock hard to live--she struggled so rock hard, took so much penalty, it would be a shame to go like this. But he would say, life is not pretty, girl, and this is it for you. He pulled harder, eyeing her assets go into involuntary grimaces before slowing and finally she was still.
He left her their. She was a dirt. His entire workshop was a mud with her DNA. He would call the cleaners. They always did him right. Boinking super-bitch...she never had a chance.

Runtime : 32min 0s
File Size : 1.04 GB
Resolution : 1280x720

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