Hard Ass Punishment

Scarlet talked plenty before the scene. Being tied up, hard spanks across her ass, a face slap—every one of them got her wet. I wanted to see if that mouth could back itself up, so I strapped her down tight in leather, buckled her wrists to her thighs and hoisted her off the floor. Her legs were chained wide, forcing her full weight onto the belt that crushed her cheeks together and spread them at the same time. The leather dug in, plumping the flesh out for whatever came next. Paddles cracked, belts whistled, the whip laid lines of fire. Each blow landed on skin pulled drum-tight, every strike digging deeper because there was nowhere for the meat to move. She jerked, she grunted around the fat ball gag, drool sliding down her chin, but the straps held. Every swat drove the point home: talk is cheap until the skin starts to burn. By the end her ass was a throbbing map of welts and handprints, bright red and hot to the touch. She could barely sit still afterward—every chair was an ordeal, every shift of weight another reminder. Flight and cab ride must’ve been pure hell. She looked like she loved every second of it.