The Training of Sasha Knox, Day Two

They strap Sasha Knox to the bench in the basement, cuffs biting her wrists and ankles. Blonde hair sticks to her mouth, sweat already on her skin. One trainer slides a greased plug against her asshole, pushes slow until it seats. She groans and strains. The strap across her back keeps her hips pinned. They switch it out for a bigger one. She shakes. Then the rod comes down across her ass. Sharp lines bloom red. She jerks hard, pulls at the cuffs, and they hit her again, counting each stroke. Every smack makes her clench around the plug. They leave it in, let her feel the throb while they cane the backs of her thighs. Her cries bounce off the concrete. They take turns, trading the cane, checking how wet she’s getting. One slips two fingers along her slit, spreads the slick over her clit, then pulls away before she can grind. The plug shifts deeper when they reposition her. She pants, drools on the bench. Another cane stroke lands across the curve of her ass, precise, hard. Her thighs tremble. They swap the plug for something thicker, work it in inch by inch while she strains and swears. Each thrust of the toy matches the rhythm of the next blow. Sweat runs down her spine. The basement smells like leather and sex. She’s shaking by the time they pull everything out and leave her empty, ass red and marked, breathing hard against the straps.