Training the Ass Licking Fluffer

Casey Calvert keeps Zoe Monroe on a tight leash. Collar tight. Wrists roped behind her back. Blonde hair twisted in Casey’s fist. The first tongue to her crack is nervous, uncertain. Casey spreads herself wider and tells her to do it properly. Zoe leans in, nose buried, lips parting. The taste of clean sweat. A salt-slick hole. Casey’s hips roll, forcing deeper contact, demanding full surrender of tongue and pride. Zoe obeys, broad strokes turning to precise, wet laps, the sound obscene in the quiet room. Casey’s breath hitches when the rim softens, when the muscle starts to give. Her free hand slides between her thighs, rubbing slow circles over her clit while Zoe keeps working, cheeks flushed, chin shiny. Every gasp from Casey tightens the hold on Zoe’s hair, pulling her in harder, using her mouth like it’s nothing but a warm, obedient tool. Bound and kneeling, Zoe stays right where she’s put, tongue pushing past resistance until Casey growls approval and grinds back, taking what she wants. The room smells of skin and spit and something darker—control, possession, the raw fact that one woman’s ass is being worshipped on command and the other is learning exactly how to do it.