Punishing the Bad Girl, Day One

Lyla fucked up. Hard. Got herself busted from the Upper Floor, stripped of her Senior Slave status, and sent down here to the basement like some broken toy that needs fixing. She doesn’t even remember the rules anymore—Honorific. Eyeline. Deportment. Three words that used to mean something. Now they just hang in the air while she kneels, naked, waiting for what comes next. I don’t waste time. Rope bites into her skin as I lash her into position, arms pulled back, spine arched, that pretty face pressed to the floor while her ass stays high and open. The rubber cock is massive. I shove it into her cunt first, make her take every inch until she’s shaking, then yank it free and force it between her lips. She gags. Good. She needs to remember what she’s for. She comes close—too close—and I stop her cold. Again and again. Her thighs are slick, her hole clenching around nothing, desperate. When I finally let her finish, it’s brutal. She squirts hard, messy, all over the concrete like some filthy animal that can’t control itself. I leave her there, dripping, used, waiting for the next round. This is day one. She’ll learn. Or she’ll break trying.