Turn of the Card

Starla came for one thing: to stuff every hole she could find. But once Ava's legs were hauled up and locked wide, the game flipped. Starla drove the hook deep, splitting her ass, while the crop striped the backs of her thighs. Ava took it. Then she started begging for it. Every crack of leather pulled another wet cry out of her, cunt clenching around nothing, begging to be filled next. By the time Starla eased off, Ava was shaking and grinning through her tears. She had one move left. When the ropes came loose she rolled, snatched the crop from Starla's hand, and cracked it across her own ass hard enough to leave a welt. Starla watched, eyes narrowing, as Ava offered the handle back between her teeth like a prize. The night wasn't over. It had only changed hands.