A Night of Distraction

Breanne Benson storms into the bar, still shaking from another round with her boyfriend. Lorelei Lee, alone behind the counter, reads the trouble on her face and pours without asking. One drink turns into a long stare. Breanne slides closer, voice low, asking for something stronger than liquor. Lorelei locks the door, then pulls rope from under the bar. She strips Breanne, bends her over a stool, and straps her wrists tight. The first smack lands hard across bare skin; the second lands harder. Lorelei grabs a cattle prod, lets it crack once in the air, then presses the live tip to Breanne’s thigh. The shock rips a cry from her throat. She takes the pain, breathing ragged, every muscle taut. Lorelei works a gloved hand between Breanne’s legs, slicks her open, then pushes a thick plug deep. She keeps the cattle prod close, delivering sharp jolts whenever Breanne’s focus slips. Each charge makes Breanne clench and moan, her body caught between agony and heat. Lorelei swaps the plug for her strap-on, driving in with steady force. She fucks Breanne’s ass while the prod rests against her spine, threatening another shock if she moves. Breanne comes hard, eyes wet, throat raw, still pinned to the stool. Lorelei unties her only when the tremors stop. Breanne straightens her clothes, pays for the drink, and walks out into the night—lighter, marked, and already wondering how soon she can come back for more.