Mistress Dita University Bully

Dita rules the nursing college the way a shark rules the water—everyone knows it, no one says it out loud. When Lex steps through the door fresh from Russia, the bait is already in the water. A hard shove. Lex hits the floor face-first. Rope snaps around her wrists, cinches tight, pins her arms behind her back. A gag follows fast, stuffed deep, straps yanked until the buckle bites. Another loop of rope circles her chest, her thighs, her calves. Every knot Dita ties pulls tighter than the last. Lex’s ankles are hauled up, crossed, lashed to the small of her back. The hogtie leaves her arched and shaking, chest off the floor, drool already darkening the gag. She twists, tests the rope, feels it give nothing back. Dita slides a vibrator between the bound girl’s thighs and lashes it in place with quick, cruel loops of rope. The first buzz rips a muffled sound out of Lex. Her hips jerk, but she has nowhere to go. Dirty boot soles hit the floor in front of Lex’s face. Bare foot follows. Tongue out. Lick. Clean. Every inch, every crease, every scrap of dirt. Lex works like she’s told, because stopping means punishment she can already feel buzzing between her legs. When Dita’s done with the feet, she peels off her sweaty socks, shoves both deep into Lex’s mouth, and seals them with a wrap of tape pulled tight around her head. The Russian can only breathe through her nose now, cheeks bulging, eyes watering. Dita stretches out on the bed, boots off, one bare foot resting on Lex’s back. The vibrator hums on. The footstool stays perfectly still, trembling, broken in, exactly where she belongs.