Day 5 sparky and muscles

Day five. They break them. The two slaves sweat through the morning pushing carts, hauling weight, stacking stone until their backs shine with salt. Every muscle hurts. Every breath comes out hot and short. Sparky’s black hair sticks to her face, dark strands plastered across her lips. Muscles never slows. He drives her, chains clinking at her wrists, cuffs locked to the bar she has to carry. When her legs shake he barks once and she straightens. Later he bends her over the crate, yanks her hips up, spreads her open and sinks into her ass without mercy. She grunts, body tight, but she takes it. Deep. He doesn’t stop until she’s panting, knuckles white around the edges of the wood. He slaps her ass, leaves a red mark, then grabs her hair and pulls her back onto him again. She learns fast. The pain stops scaring her. It turns her on. When he finally pulls out, the cum slides down her thigh and she doesn’t wipe it away. She just stays there, bent over, waiting for whatever comes next.