Final Round with Katherine Cane

Katherine Cane came back for round three, and she came to bleed out every last drop of fight she had left. That pale skin caught the light like it wanted attention, like it had never known mercy and still wasn’t sure if it deserved any. Her body spoke for her. She wanted pain. She wanted to be taken apart where it would count. I didn’t waste time warming her up. Copper pipes ran hot against her thighs, wired to keep her twitching. The strap-on carried its own current. Every thrust sent a jolt straight through her cunt, electricity dancing across wet flesh while the copper kept her honest. She tried to hold still. She failed. The current decided when she got to breathe. She took the fist after the shocks wore her down. Four fingers first, then the thumb, the whole hand disappearing slow and steady until her belly bulged and her thighs shook. The pipes kept humming. The strap-on stayed buried, still sparking when I leaned forward. She came hard enough to soak the floor, then came again when I wouldn’t let her rest. Katherine Cane left the room empty and used up, the way she wanted it.