Haze

Jade shows up bright and ready, perfect teeth, perfect nails. Cyd watches and decides the whole shoot is about how far he can push before the fire goes out. He starts simple. Her arms fixed to wooden rods, elbows locked at right angles. Nipple clamps bite harder the more her hands shake. Buckets of weights swing below the pulleys. Within minutes her shoulders burn, her body slick with sweat. He brings the cane. Each stripe lands across her breasts and ribs while she fights to keep the rods level. Every flinch pulls the clamps tighter. Next he straps her over the Sybian on the stained mattress. The machine hums beneath her, the leather strap tight around her throat. He twists the speed knob and cinches the belt in steady rhythm—cutting breath, then giving it back, watching her ride each forced orgasm until her legs tremble and her eyes lose focus. She’s close to dropping, so he unties her only to bend her over again for one last hard caning, then leaves her loose on the sheets, body limp, completely empty.