Courtney Taylor wants to be Fucked Into Submission

The tall blonde stands bound. Rope bites into her wrists and around her tits, lifting them high and tight. A leather collar circles her throat. She’s been stripped, heels still on, and a man steps in with a heavy flogger. The first strike lands across her ass and the room fills with the crack of leather on skin. Her back arches, tits shaking. She spits a curse. He answers with another blow, then another, until her ass glows red and her curses fade into gasps. He doesn’t untie her. He just spins her around, bends her over a padded bench, and spreads her cheeks. The first push into her ass comes sudden and thick. She screams. He keeps her spread, sinks in deeper, starts to fuck. Every stroke drives her forward against the bench. Her tits swing, nipples brushing rough fabric. Sweat slicks her back. He grabs a fistful of hair, yanks her head up, and tells her to keep her eyes open. She tries. He fucks harder. Her voice cracks, the tough act melting with every thrust. When he’s buried to the balls he pauses, hand around her throat, squeezing just enough to remind her who’s in charge. She stops fighting. The moans come softer now, helpless and hungry. He starts again, long, punishing strokes, each one shoving her deeper into the role she came for: a body built for use, tits marked, ass claimed, every inch of her learning the weight of real submission.