Dolly's Innocence Lost

Dolly plays the good girl, but that's a lie waiting to break. We rope her tight—wrists, chest, thighs—until escape isn't an option. Her dress rips away in one yank, baring pale skin that begs for marks. Floggers crack. Canes snap. Open palms redden the flesh until it glows hot. We flip her onto her stomach, then her back, every turn leaving her spread, bound, and helpless. Her mouth takes the ball gag with a muffled protest. When the big cock slides in, the ropes bite deeper. She strains, moans, drools. There’s no mercy, only the sound of leather on skin and the slow, deliberate push of every thrust.