Wolf Lotus and Faith Leon

Faith is nineteen. Pretty. Looks like the kind of girl you walk past and never guess how dark her fantasies run. The ropes bite her skin and she laughs it off, says she can take it. That edge in her voice says otherwise. She fights because she has to—wrists pinned, chest straining, thighs trembling as the knots hold her open. Every time she bucks she only tightens the web. Then comes the gag, forced between her teeth, thick leather wedged deep. Her jaw aches, drool slips down her chin, and she still keeps up the show. Her body betrays her faster than her mouth ever could. The orgasms rip through her fast and loud, soaking the rope, thighs twitching like she can’t shut them. She glares even while her cunt flutters. When the tank comes, it’s all muscle and panic. Hands in her hair, yanked back, then down. Water closes over her face. She thrashes, bubbles screaming to the surface. The ropes don’t give. Neither does the hand that keeps her under. Pulled up gasping, spit and water trailing from the gag, eyes wild. She barely catches her breath before they shove her under again. Every dunk strips another layer off her pride. When it’s over she’s red-faced, trembling, but grinning like she just stole something. She wants more. She’ll be back.