Service Sessions: Shevon's Trials

Shevon pushes tinsel onto a mantel but her wrists already ache from yesterday’s rope. She drops a strand and bends to grab it, ass up, cunt open, no underwear. The room answers with footsteps. Hands grip her hips. A belt slides free. First strike lands hot on her left cheek. She jerks forward, grabs the hearth for balance. The next crack lands lower, just above her thigh. She stays bent, breathes through the sting, waits for the next. A palm follows, rubs the heat, then slides down. Two fingers push inside her without asking. She rocks back on them, greedy. The fingers pull out. She hears metal. The cuffs click around her wrists behind her back. Her forehead stays on the stone. He spreads her cheeks and lines up. One long shove and he’s balls-deep in her ass. She growls into the brick. He fucks her in short, hard strokes, each one knocking another ornament to the floor. Sweat runs down her spine. The belt swings again, striping her thigh while his cock stays buried. She comes once, fast and tight, clenching around him. He doesn’t stop. The tree lights blink. A bulb rolls under the couch. Her knees shake. He pulls out, slaps her hole with his cock, then sinks back in. She stays open, takes it. The mantel clock ticks. Outside, snow keeps falling. Shevon stops thinking about the decorations.