Ginger

Chanta forgot her ID. Ginger refuses her a drink. That was a mistake, because the bag at Chanta’s feet is full of wired toys. She grabs Ginger by the hair, drags her down, and knots the ropes tight. Wires bite into skin. The cattle prod crackles once, then again, leaving white-hot lines across Ginger’s tits and ass. She jerks, cursing, then moans when Chanta shoves gloved fingers between her legs and works her open. The wand presses hard to her clit. Current snaps through wet flesh and Ginger comes so hard her knees buckle. Chanta doesn’t wait. She bends the shaking redhead over the bench, straps on the buzzing black dildo, and drives it straight into her ass. The motor hums. Ginger grits her teeth, drools on the wood, and takes every thrust while Chanta keeps the current live on the prod pressed to the small of her back.