Thunder and Rayne

Thunder and Rayne. Rayne's body is strapped open and ready. A metal wand sits between her legs, cold, waiting, while her wrists and ankles stay locked in leather. The first jolt hits her clit and she jerks hard against the cuffs, breath catching sharp. Another shock follows, heavier, and the muscles in her thighs shake. Thunder turns the dial higher. Pain snaps up her spine, then turns into need so fast it leaves her gasping. A thin crop cuts across her ass in tight, even stripes, mixing fresh sting with the bite of current. Rayne bites her lip, tries to stay quiet, fails. A clothespin snaps onto one nipple, then the other. Every heartbeat makes them bite deeper. Thunder swaps the wand for a thick plug, lubes it quick, pushes it in without pause. Rayne's hole fights, then takes it. The next shock runs straight through metal to flesh, lighting up her ass from the inside. She shouts once, raw. Thunder doesn't let up. He canes her thighs next, five quick stripes, leaving red lines over trembling skin. Each new hit of electricity makes her jerk and clench around the plug. Sweat runs down her ribs. She pushes back, chasing the next jolt, the next strike. Thunder gives both. Rayne's eyes roll. Her orgasm hits sudden, violent, shaking her whole frame. She stays open, shaking, still locked down, still wanting more.