The Training of Dia Zerva Day Two

Morning's here. Dia gets handed the crappiest chore first—bare-assed, on her knees, rag in hand, scrubbing piss-stained urinals. She begged for this shot last year and got turned down. Now she's back, and they want to see how far she'll crawl. She's locked down on all fours in the trainer's office, stainless plug buried in her ass, thick rubber cock splitting her cunt. Every thrust knocks the air out of her. The whip lands hot and sharp, cracking across her back, her thighs, tearing little gasps loose. She stays locked in place, muscles shaking, eyes glassy. When they finally pull the plug, they swap it for flesh and blood—raw cock driving straight into her asshole. She comes hard, voice cracking, still forced to recite last night's homework between ragged breaths. Cum drips down her thighs, sweat pools under her knees. Used up and shaking, she slurs the only words left in her: 'Thank you sir for fucking my ass…'