Lory and her Mistress

Lory looks like the perfect little blonde, but sometimes she slips. Mistress Katia does not tolerate slips. She keeps her girls on a short leash, and tonight the leash is black rope. Lory’s wrists are caught above her head, her ankles pulled wide, the knots biting into soft skin. Katia circles her like a cat. She has had a long day, and Lory is the evening’s entertainment. The first slap lands across pale breasts. Lory gasps, then tries to smile through it, offering the promise she always gives when the sting starts to build. "I’ll be good." The words barely leave her mouth before another slap answers them. Katia’s handprint blooms bright red on Lory’s skin. She likes the color. She likes the way Lory’s hips jerk even though she is trying to stay still. Fingers slide lower, nails tracing the inside of a trembling thigh. Lory’s cunt is already slick; fear and want have mixed into something sweet. Katia dips two fingers inside, twists them, watches the girl’s thighs fight the rope. "You promised," she says, voice low, almost bored. Another finger joins the first. The stretch makes Lory whimper. Katia’s thumb finds her clit and rubs slow circles that never quite give relief. She steps away, returns with a leather crop. The first strike kisses Lory’s inner thigh. The second lands higher. Each hit makes the bound girl jerk and drip. Sweat beads between her breasts. Tears glitter at the corners of her eyes, yet her nipples stay tight and dark. Katia leans in, kisses one, bites the other, then soothes the bite with the flat of her tongue. The contrast pulls a broken moan from Lory’s throat. Still, the mistress is not finished. She kneels, spreads Lory wider with both hands, and buries her mouth between slick folds. She sucks the swollen clit, fucks her with her tongue, drinks every drop the girl gives her. Lory’s promises turn to pleas. Katia ignores them. Her tongue works faster. Her fingers press into the soft flesh of Lory’s ass, holding her open while she feasts. When the blonde finally breaks and comes, the sound is raw, helpless, beautiful. Katia rises, lips shiny, eyes dark. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and smiles. The day is not over yet. The ropes stay tight. The crop waits on the table. Lory’s eyes follow it, wide and wet, already wondering how much more she can take before the mistress is satisfied.