Bad Attitude

Ashli Ames walks in with that smug little grin, like she owns the place. Mouth running, attitude sharp. The kind that needs breaking. So we rope her wrists behind her, cinch the knots until her shoulders burn, and slap the brat right off her face. She yelps, curses, keeps talking shit until a second smack shuts her up. We shove her to her knees, make her apologize with a throat full of cock, drool running down her chin while she gags. When she pulls back to mouth off again, we yank the ropes tighter, bend her over, and drive straight into her ass. No warm-up, no mercy. Her body jerks with every thrust, tits swinging, hair plastered to her sweaty cheek. She fights it, swears she hates it, until the spasms hit and she’s pulsing around the dick buried in her guts. We pull out, push her face to the puddle she left on the floor, and watch her tongue lap up her own mess. By the time she’s allowed to crawl out, the princess act is gone, replaced by a shaky, red-faced girl who just learned what happens when you run that mouth in the wrong room.