Delusional Desires

Dahlia Sky knows exactly what her client needs. She listens, she talks, she charges. Then one bored Mr. Mogul stops listening back. In seconds her blouse is torn open, her wrists bound tight behind her, a fat ball gag stuffed between her teeth. She kicks once, heels scraping the floor, but the rope already bites. He pulls her over his lap, skirt flipped up, panties ripped aside. Every slap lands loud. Every moan she tries to make dies against the rubber ball. Sweat beads on her chest as he fingers her cunt, shoves two thick digits deep, pulls them out dripping. Dahlia Sky strains, blonde hair sticking to her face, eyes wide. He laughs low, tightens the last knot around her ankles, then pushes her face-down into the couch. She can only drool and buck while he takes what he paid for. 2015.