The Punishment Pool

Victoria Voxxx is back with The Pope, dripping heat and rope. She’s ball-gagged, hog-tied, and hauled through the winding river that snakes around the compound. Every few steps he stops, slides two fingers straight into her cunt, and works her until her thighs shake. Inside the dark mouth of a man-made cave he drops her onto the stone, fingers her harder, then slaps her ass until the sound cracks off the rock. Rope bites her wrists; water laps her knees. Next she’s stretched belly-down across a flat boulder in the pool. He gropes and fingers without mercy, then threads slack rope around her throat and pulls until she comes in short, choking gasps. Flipped over, she sits waist-deep while one thick forearm wraps her neck and the other drives into her cunt; her eyes roll back each time his fingers curl. Last, he strings her to a palm tree in the shallows. He flicks water at her face, then pulls out the heavy flogger they call Fluffy. Stroke after stroke lands across wet skin, raising welts that burn hotter under the sun. She takes every lash and keeps begging for more. When he reaches between her legs and circles her clit, she detonates—back arched against the bark, ropes creaking, a raw, broken scream echoing across the water before she sags, spent and glistening.