Hookers Revenge: Pegging, Humiliation and Enslavement

D. Arclyte walks in like every other john — demanding, cheap, loud. Mz Berlin wears the corset that barely holds her tits and heels sharp enough to draw blood. She has hit her limit with men who think money buys manners. One wrong word and the taser comes out. His mouth shuts fast. She ties his wrists, knots the rope so tight it bites, then the single tail cracks across his back. He jerks, but stays put. Chopsticks pinch his balls, rubber bands snapping them tight, every twist making him gasp through clenched teeth. She makes him stand in those same heels she wore, forces him to balance while she circles with the strap-on. He wobbles, loses. She laughs once, short and mean. He drops to his knees for her shoes, tongue working leather and heel like his life depends on it, then she plants her cunt on his face and grinds until his jaw aches. When she finally fucks him the pace is brutal, hips slamming, every stroke driving him deeper into the mattress. She stops right when he’s about to come, leaves him shaking, denied, owned.