Kym Wilde and Carrie

Kym had picked up Carrie off some local message board. Halfway through the scene she burst into the back room wanting a paddle, because Carrie could take it all. Carrie wouldn’t stop smiling, no matter how hard Kym worked on her, and that grin dragged both of them into something hotter than either expected. Carrie ended up face-down and bound, every slap of the paddle answered by a moan. Kym kept at her, testing how deep that amateur fire could burn, until the room felt tight with sweat, rope, and the sharp, filthy rhythm of need.