Billy and Gwen Diamond

Billy's on his knees scrubbing the floor in Gwen's panties. The white lace stretches tight across his ass while she watches from the couch, legs crossed, a smirk curling her lips. She stands, grabs the leather flogger, and the first strike cracks like a gunshot across his back. He jerks forward. She swings again—harder. Each lash leaves a red stripe and a grunt he can't swallow down. Her voice is low, dirty, right in his ear. Calls him her little chore bitch, tells him he looks ridiculous in lace. He tries to keep scrubbing. She yanks him up by the hair and binds his wrists to the ceiling hook, feet barely touching the floor. The flogger sings through the air. His body swings with every hit. Sweat rolls down his chest. When she cuts him down, he drops to his knees again, cock straining against the panties. She peels them aside, straddles him, and sinks down on him in one slow, wet slide. She rides him hard, using every inch of him until she comes. Only then does she let him finish inside her. When she's done she rises, squats over his face, and pushes his load out in thick strings that splatter across his mouth and cheeks. She laughs the whole time.