The Training of Holly Stevens Day Four

Holly's down in the Armory basement. Black hair stuck to her face. The first cock slides past her lips before she's even on her knees. She's learning fast—how to take it deep, how to keep her eyes up when her throat tightens. They push her around like she owes them. Spread her wide on the concrete, hands cuffed behind her back, ass up for whatever they want. Every thrust comes hard. They work her open, one after another, not giving her time to catch her breath. She strains against the cuffs. Sweat rolls down her spine. Her muscles shake from holding position. They don't care if she cums. They only care that she takes it—every inch, every order, every filthy command they throw at her.