Deeper into the Fuck Doll

Mona Wales never made it to church. Her pink dress still on, she’s trapped where Elise Graves wants her—knees spread, hands bound, every move watched. Elise cuts the fabric away in short, sharp strokes. Cool air hits Mona’s nipples first, then teeth sink in, hard and quick. Mona stays straight like she’s told. Her back arches when the cane lands. Elise counts each strike out loud. Mona counts too, voice thin. Sweat shines between her shoulders. Elise switches to hands, slapping the welts she just raised. Mona’s cunt drips onto the bench. Elise grips her ankle, pulls the foot up, runs her tongue along the sole, then bites down. Mona jerks, but the ropes hold. Elise edges her—fingers inside, stopping every time Mona’s breath hitches—until Mona’s begging without shame. The cane returns. Mona counts louder. 2021, two women, one dungeon, no mercy.