Her Masters Voice

Mura sinks into the bed and thinks she’s done. Allie’s laugh cuts through the quiet like a blade. She buckles the collar, snaps the padlock shut, then loops the chain through Mura’s ankle cuffs and locks her open on her back. No escape. Not tonight. “Spread for me,” Allie says. The dominatrix drags a vibrator across Mura’s clit and leaves it there on the lowest buzz. Mura jerks, testing the chains; they rattle and hold. The toy keeps humming, sweet and mean. Allie leans over the captive blonde and cups her jaw. “You can’t come until I hear you beg pretty. How cute can you moan for me under there, pet?” Mura tries to bite the sound back. It slips out anyway, thin and desperate. Each time her voice cracks, Allie clicks the remote one notch higher. Mura strains against steel, hips jerking, breath breaking into soft, filthy whimpers. Her thighs tremble. Sweat beads on her belly. The chain tugs tight every time she twists, a hard reminder that she’s locked open and owned. She moans louder, shame hot under her skin, and the toy gets louder with her. Still not enough. Allie watches, eyes bright, waiting for the next, prettier sound.