Breaking In Slave Freshie

Freshie’s on her knees, arms strapped behind her, mouth wrenched open by a bit gag that makes her drool down her chin. Tina walks a slow circle around her, riding crop tapping against her own thigh like a warning. She yanks the blindfold down over Freshie’s eyes and shoves a fat plug between her cheeks, twisting it until Freshie whines through the gag. Every slap lands harder, every twist deeper, until Freshie is shaking and the floor beneath her is slick. But the second Tina leans in to gloat, Freshie jerks her hips, rocks the plug back hard into Tina’s thigh, and suddenly the trainer is the one off-balance. The crop clatters away. Freshie’s still blind, still gagged, but her weight pins Tina’s wrist to the floor and the power shifts in the room like a switch flipped. The sadistic grin fades. Freshie’s breathing through her nose, teeth sunk into the bit, and Tina is the one looking up now.