Into the Filthy Verse part I

Sophia Locke waits for you, naked and redheaded, wrists cuffed high to the dungeon beams. Every breath lifts her tits, and the cane already rests on the bench behind her. She meets your eyes with that cocky, knowing smirk she uses right before the first stripe lands. You step closer. Her ankles are spread and shackled, the steel biting. A thick black dildo stands upright on the low stool between her legs, already glistening. She’s been riding it in slow circles, cunt stretched and dripping, waiting for permission to sink all the way down. You pick up the cane. Sophia licks her lips, lifts her hips an inch, then lowers them again so the dildo nudges deeper. One sharp crack across her ass and her whole body jolts, nipples tightening. She gasps, then laughs once, low and filthy. “Harder,” she whispers. You give her two more, fast, and the sound cracks through the stone room. Welts rise pink and angry. She rolls her hips, taking the toy deeper, thighs trembling. Sweat beads between her shoulder blades. You grab a fistful of hair, pull her head back, make her look at the marks you just gave her. Her cunt clenches around the silicone, a wet sound echoing off the walls. Another stripe across the backs of her thighs and she sobs once, raw and grateful. You push the cane between her legs, press the shaft against her swollen clit, and she grinds on it, desperate. The cuffs rattle. She begs with her eyes. You raise the cane again.