Charlie Gets Taught A Lesson

Tommy’s had it. Charlie’s mouth won’t quit. She mouths off in front of his friends, then corners one in the kitchen like a cat in heat. Something inside him cracks. He grabs her, slams her down on the pool table, and starts binding her wrists to the rail with rough rope. She kicks, but he has her legs spread and tied before she can spit another word. The bit gag comes out—black, thick, forced between her teeth until the straps bite her cheeks. Her black hair fans across the green felt, eyes wide, chest heaving. The flogger cracks across her ass, then her thighs, then her tits. Red lines bloom fast. He follows each strike with the zapper, little pops that make her jerk and moan around the gag. He flips her like a doll, face down, ass up, then on her back again. Every time the current hits she twists, tits bouncing, thighs slick. When he finally pulls the gag out she doesn’t scream—she opens wide, hungry. He fucks her throat until spit strings down her chin, then moves between her legs and pounds her pussy like he’s trying to split her in half. She takes it, eyes rolling, thighs shaking. He yanks out at the last second, strokes once, twice, and shoots thick ropes straight into her open mouth. Charlie swallows every drop, tongue out, hungry for the rest.