Dungeon Pet

She sits there collared and leashed like a pet you can finally stop dreaming about. You run your hands over her, hard and thorough, pinching, squeezing, claiming every inch. Then you strap her wrists and ankles to the chair, clothespins clamped onto her skin in tight rows. The Hitachi buzzes against her clit until her legs shake and she comes in broken little spasms. You cut her loose just long enough to fold her arms behind her back and wrap rope around her chest, pulling her tits tight. With her mouth free she takes your cock, spit running down her chin, your hand twisted in her dark hair to control the pace. You drag her to the cross next, face against the wood, ass out, and drive into her while the paddle cracks across her cheeks with every thrust. Last, you flip her onto her back, ankles roped to wrists so she’s wide open and helpless, and fuck her until your load paints her stomach and tits.