Luna's Lovely Lashing

Luna is already strapped down on that wedge, wrists and ankles lashed tight. The Pope stuffs a fat ball between her teeth and cinches the straps. A rope loops her throat—sudden pressure every time she swallows. He draws the whip back and lays it across her ass, stripes rising fast, her skin jumping under each stroke. She shivers. He presses the Hitachi between her legs, lets the buzz rattle her nerves, then yanks it away and goes back to the leather. The crop comes next, sharp little snaps turning her flesh red and hot. Later she’s hanging, limbs spread, every inch on display. His palm cracks across her ass, ropes get cinched tighter, a thick dildo rams into her cunt. The vibrator returns, relentless, forcing the orgasm he wants. Finally she’s bound to a pole, arms and legs yanked over her head, pussy wide and helpless. He slaps it, then switches to the cane—hard, precise strokes painting her thighs and ass until the marks she begged for bloom dark and proud. Only then does he let the Hitachi finish the job, buzzing hard while the welts throb.