The Training of the Pretty Girl, Day Two

She wants to feel pretty. Day One I buckled her into plain slut heels. Day Two she earns red lips—wet, cock-sucking red. First comes sweat. I take her to the sub-basement and run her hard. Stress holds. Stones to move. Orders barked one way, yanked another. She drips, muscles shake, that sheen I crave. I watch, breathing it in. When her skin glows I hand her the lipstick. She paints the pout, then drops to suck the gimp’s dick while the whip kisses her ass and the vibrator hums between her thighs. Every gag earns another stripe. Her cunt is next. She climbs on, rides, grinds, and I stripe the swollen lips with the crop until she’s slick and shaking. Last, her ass. Cowgirl on the same thick cock, legs burning. The prod keeps her honest—when she slows, the jolt hits and she snaps back to work. She rides faster, deeper, chasing it, until the come finally hits and the day is done.