Tardy for Pussy

You showed up late again. Mistress London River was counting on that. She keeps her pussy on a strict schedule, and you just pissed all over it. She doesn't waste words. Her hand moves first. The whip cuts the air, then your skin. Each stripe tells you exactly where you stand. Beneath her. Always. Her lover waits in the next room, cock already hard, ready to remind you what she denies you. She edges him while you watch, making you count every denied stroke. Your balls ache. Your pride shrinks. She smiles when you flinch. The dungeon lights catch the wet gleam between her thighs. You are here to learn. And she has all night to teach you.