School Of Submission: Casey Calvert, Day One

Casey Calvert sits under hard lights. The Pope leans in close, voice low, questions sharp. He pulls answers from her one by one until the map of her limits spreads on the table. He decides the route. Day One starts without a second to breathe. A crop snaps across her ass, leaves a red line, then another across the backs of her thighs. Pain slams into her before thought can form. Rope bites deep, lifts her to her toes, arms locked behind. A thick cock presses into her mouth, no warm-up, just sudden fullness that stretches her jaw. Casey gags, recovers, pushes forward again. The Pope watches every reflex, then swings the crop harder, timing the strokes with the thrusts. Her cunt drips despite the sting. Sweat streaks down her spine. He swaps the crop for his bare hand, slapping the welts he just raised, each smack louder than the last. She arches, shakes, swallows him deeper when the pain peaks. No cuts. No mercy. Only Casey, held open and pushed further, taking it all in one unbroken ride toward the edge he chooses for her.