The Training of Amanda Tate, Day Three

Amanda Tate thinks hauling a half-ton of rocks across the floor counts as real work. She gets a taste of the whip every time her pace lags. By the time the pile is moved she is grinning like she just won something, so I tell her to move them back. The grin dies. She hauls rock until her arms shake and her thighs burn. Same stones, same floor, same whip. When it is done I shove the masked gimp cock into her mouth. She takes it, gagging, spit sliding down her chin onto her tits. She swallows what she can and still begs for more, throat working around every inch until the mess coats her chest. Good girl, for now. I strap her over the box, ass high, hips lashed forward with bungee so the only way she gets cock is to fight the pull. Every thrust costs extra sweat. She rocks back hard, cunt straining for each inch while the cord snaps her forward again. Training means the slave earns every stroke.