A Bitch Boy For Her Pleasure

Mistress Lotus Lain walks through the door and finds Jonah Marx bound, naked, already on his knees. She doesn’t say hello. She kicks the door shut, drops her bag, and goes straight for his balls. A sharp squeeze, a twist, and his eyes water. She slaps them until they swing, then spins him around and paints his ass red with her hand—each smack loud, each one harder than the last. When her boots are streaked with street dirt she shoves them in his face and tells him to lick. Tongue out, he scrapes the filth from leather and sole while she watches without a hint of mercy. The flogger comes next. She lays stripes across his back, his ass, his thighs, fast and mean, until his skin burns. Then the strap-on. She bends him over, works the head in, and fucks him in hard, steady strokes that knock the breath from his chest. Every time he gasps she pushes deeper. When she’s ready she pulls out, strips off the harness, and plants her cunt on his mouth. She rides his tongue until she comes, then again, grinding until her thighs shake. Only when she’s finished does she reach for his cock. She strokes him rough, makes him spill across his own stomach, and orders him to clean every drop—hers first, then his. He licks until the floor is spotless. Lotus stands, zips her boots, and walks out. "Door’s unlocked," she says. "You can let yourself out."