Service Day: Chains and Cupcakes

Two house slaves—Lilla Katt, Nerine Mechanique—stand at the center of the mess they made. Cupcakes cool on every surface while cupcake batter and crumbs coat the lounge floor. They knew sin’s decollaring demanded a clean space, yet they baked anyway. The first swing of the whip lands across Katt’s bare ass. She jerks, wrists locked behind her in heavy chains. Mechanique is next, bent over the same wooden arm, chain links digging into her skin. Each strike comes hard and deliberate, the price for choosing cupcakes over clean floors. When the flogging ends, their holes are next. Cold steel and warm flesh. The anal hook slides deep into Katt, its ring clipped to the back of her collar. Mechanique is spread open and filled the same way, her face pressed to the floor, cheeks streaked with flour and sweat. The girls are made to kneel side by side, frosting still stuck to their thighs. Every shift of their bodies tugs the hooks and tightens the chains around their wrists and ankles. They stay like that, breathing through the stretch, bound and exposed, until the cupcakes have cooled and the lounge finally smells only of sweat, metal, and the faint trace of sugar.