Sarah Blake, that bratty little Domme in a slashed-up school uniform, drags the priest down to the basement. She presses herself against him, skirt riding high, the smell of cheap perfume and sweat filling the air. Jimmy’s breath is ragged. She yanks down his pants, wraps her hand around his thick, circumcised cock, and starts stroking like she owns it. He doesn’t stop her. When she climbs on, grinding her wet cunt against him, he just takes it. He cums hard, shaking. She stares at the mess on her hand, smiles, and gives him the choice: lick it up and swear himself to her, or she’ll tell the whole damn congregation. Jimmy chooses her. Next time she drags him out of the cage, strips him bare, and chains him to the big wooden cross. “You’ve sinned,” she tells him. The flogger tears across his back, sharp leather cracking over skin. The Devil’s Claw scrapes red lines after. She swings the paddle against his ass until he’s begging, then shifts every brutal smack up to his shoulders, leaving bruises in a neat ladder. Crop. Hand. Crop. Hand. When it’s over he drops to his knees, presses his lips to the back of her hand like it’s holy.
Sarah Blake, that bratty little Domme in a slashed-up school uniform, drags the priest down to the basement. She presses herself against him, skirt riding high, the smell of cheap perfume and sweat filling the air. Jimmy’s breath is ragged. She yanks down his pants, wraps her hand around his thick, circumcised cock, and starts stroking like she owns it. He doesn’t stop her. When she climbs on, grinding her wet cunt against him, he just takes it. He cums hard, shaking. She stares at the mess on her hand, smiles, and gives him the choice: lick it up and swear himself to her, or she’ll tell the whole damn congregation. Jimmy chooses her. Next time she drags him out of the cage, strips him bare, and chains him to the big wooden cross. “You’ve sinned,” she tells him. The flogger tears across his back, sharp leather cracking over skin. The Devil’s Claw scrapes red lines after. She swings the paddle against his ass until he’s begging, then shifts every brutal smack up to his shoulders, leaving bruises in a neat ladder. Crop. Hand. Crop. Hand. When it’s over he drops to his knees, presses his lips to the back of her hand like it’s holy.
