Claire Adams and Nomad

Who said this pissed-off Mistress has mercy for a piece of shit? Nomad screwed up. Mistress Claire is here to make sure he remembers it. She’s in tight latex, voice like broken glass. Every question ends with another blow, another shock, another command he can’t refuse. She jams the cattle prod straight into his balls, watches him jerk and swear, then does it again. He howls, knees buckling, but she keeps him upright so she can kick his legs apart and grind the steel tip against his cock until he’s babbling apologies he doesn’t even believe. When she’s tired of that, she shoves her foot at his face and tells him to earn it. He sucks like a starving man, tongue working between her toes, until she trades her foot for her strap-on and fucks his throat until spit runs down his chest. She bends him over, slams the same cock into his ass and pounds until his voice cracks. Only when he’s shaking does she let him touch himself—her hand clamped over his mouth and nose while she tells him exactly how worthless he still is. He jerks fast, frantic, coming hard under the weight of her body and the sting of her last words.