Carly on Display

They had Carly bound tight, rope digging into her skin. The gag kept her jaw spread wide, her mouth forced open, drool sliding down her chin. They left nothing to chance. Wrists pulled back to ankles, her body arched and helpless under the low light. Every strike of the crop left a mark that lingered, red lines blooming across her ass and thighs. She jerked when the next one landed, then braced for the one after. The camera caught it all—the strain in her shoulders, the tremor in her legs, the way she couldn’t do anything but take it. They used her like an exhibit, an object on display. She knew they were coming back for more, and the thought made the rope feel even tighter.