Darling's Sexual Destruction

Darling opens the year like a live wire. She steps onto the floor already bound, wrists yanked behind her, chest thrust forward, tits high and heavy. Rope bites into her shoulders, her waist, her thighs, turning every breath shallow. Clamps bite down on each nipple, chain swinging, yanking her forward whenever she flinches. A fat gag stretches her mouth wide; spit runs down her chin before the first strike lands. When the vibrator hits her clit she jerks hard enough to make the clamps dance, and then she’s coming—wet, sudden, soaking the mat under her knees. Before the tremors fade a cock is shoved into her ass, thick, relentless, no warm-up. She takes it fast and deep, each thrust hammering the plug already lodged inside her until the stretch turns obscene. She gags on her own spit, drools on the floor, yet her cunt keeps pulsing, dripping, begging for more. Another orgasm tears through her while the clamps are twisted, yanked, slapped; her tits bounce and redden, nipples raw and screaming. The pounding never eases. Anal. Hard. Steady. Brutal. She comes again, and again, squirting in messy arcs across the mat, body shaking in its ropes, mind gone somewhere darker and brighter than the room. New year. Same ruin. Only the marks get fresher.