The Training of Lorelei Lee, Day One

She's 26, a Pisces, five-five of blonde with a hungry mouth and not a whole lot holding her back. She knows how to take a beating. Likes it mean, leaves marks, wants the cane to land heavy. She's been on sets for years, but this time the rules feel tighter. A full hood is planned. Breath, sound, sight—all cut. She says she’s a pervert and wants proof. So the first thing is her knees on concrete, wrists locked behind her, tits out. A thick cock shoved past her lips until her throat spasms. She holds it. Barely. The cane waits. Long strokes across the backs of her thighs while she’s made to keep still, every flinch earns another stripe. Then the hood. Heavy leather, total dark, air thin. She has to stay silent, stay wet, stay exactly where she’s put. Orgasm denied until the order comes. She’ll edge and shake and learn the price of moving. Day one starts now.