The Training of Harmony Rose, Day Two

The alarm hits at seven. Harmony rolls out half-asleep, dragged into the gym with Tomcat looming over her. He runs her until every muscle burns. Push-ups, burpees, sprints. Sweat soaks her skin, but he keeps barking. When she finally drops, trembling and flushed, he rewards her the way she wants: a thick mechanical cock slammed straight into her cunt. The Fucksall pounds away, but he keeps her right on the edge, voice low, telling her she doesn’t come until he says so. She claws at the mat, biting her lip, dripping around the relentless shaft. After that it’s straight downstairs. The head box waits. Black wood, padded only enough to keep her conscious. He shoves her face inside and clamps the collar tight around her throat. Claustrophobia slams into her immediately. Tears start. She breathes too fast. He doesn’t care. A vibe lands on her clit and a whip stripes her thighs in the same breath. She screams inside the box, but the orgasm still rips through her, locked in the dark, sobbing and shaking. The moment she stops twitching he feeds his cock through the mouth hole. She sucks greedily, grateful for anything that isn’t silence. When he pulls out she’s released, legs spread wide on the cold floor, ordered to talk nasty for the lens while her fingers work her soaked pussy until she comes again. Next she’s bound—wrists yanked high, one leg lashed up so her hips tilt open. He fucks her mouth first, then her cunt, switching whenever he feels like it, keeping her wrecked and desperate. She begs for the cattle prod the second he tells her to. The instant the current hits, her whole body jerks around his cock, but she stays silent the way she’s been trained. The session ends with her gasping, eyes glassy, ready for whatever Princess Donna has planned tomorrow.