Star

Star dreams of dark places at night. She wears white and clean in the day, but when she shuts her eyes the mask cracks. Rope bites her wrists. Steel hook pulls her ass higher, forces her spine into a tight arch. A red ball gag stretches her mouth open, and every breath comes wet and loud. Sweat slides down her ribs while the rope holds her there, bent forward, bare and trembling. Her blonde hair sticks to her wet face. She strains, thighs shake, cunt glistens. Every pull of the hook drags her further into the ache. No one else is allowed to see this, not the real world, not the smiles she wears for family. Here the tension builds until release crashes through her, leaving her slack and empty, ready to wake up and pretend again.