Captured Cheaters

Blake and Stella grin in relief, their test finally over. Exhaustion hangs on them like sweat. Then London steps in, voice low and sharp. She sat right behind them. She saw everything. She even took a photo. One click and the dean gets proof. The only way out? Strip. Right now. Blake peels down to her bra and panties. Stella goes farther, dropping every stitch until only her panties cling to her hips. London doesn't wait. Rope bites into their wrists, binding them behind their backs. Ankles are lashed tight to the chair legs. A gag cuts off any protest. London brings the flogger down hard, then softer, then hard again. She finds every ticklish spot and works it until their bodies jerk and sweat. When she's had her fill she walks out, leaving them bound and breathing hard. Blake slips her wrist free first. She unties Stella just enough to shove the phone into her hand and hiss one order: call the dean. Take the blame. Then Blake disappears. London returns to an empty room—until Blake grabs her from behind. In seconds London is on the bed, wrists yanked to her ankles in a strict hogtie, rope biting deep. Stella gets the same treatment. Gags muffle their curses. Blake steps back, eyes cold, and leaves them twisting and straining against the ropes.