Used and Abused

Freeze frame. You’re tied to a chair in a basement. Days now. You conned the wrong woman. Arabelle, that hot French bitch, caught you with her cash and decided you’d pay in skin. She leaves nothing unused. The rattan cane cuts across your thighs again, sharp and wet. Clothespins bite down your chest, your balls, tight rows of sting. Every time you throb, the pins tug and the pain shoots straight to your cock. She edges you for hours, stops right when you’re about to lose it, smirks, starts again. Your wrists ache against the rope. Sweat stings. She walks slow circles, boots echoing, watching you shake. Every strike of the cane lands where she wants it. Every clothespin stays until she’s bored. She owns the room, owns you, and she isn’t finished. You’re her fucktoy until she’s done. VR drops you straight into it. No escape. Just her rules, the sting, and the long, slow climb to nothing.