Viva

Marty steps back in, rope in his fists, eyes on Viva. She stands stripped to the waist, wrists already crossed behind her. The rope bites fast, cinching tight until her shoulders pull back and her breasts lift high. He shoves a fat red ball between her teeth, straps it deep so the leather cuts at the corners of her mouth. She breathes hard through her nose, spit already shining on her chin. The first cane stroke lands low across her ass, thin and vicious. Viva jerks, a wet grunt punching out around the gag. Marty works the cane up her thighs, then across her tits, painting red lines that bloom hot under the lights. Each impact lands sharp and exact; each gasp drags more drool down her chest. He pauses only to twist the rope tighter, forcing her onto her toes while he lands another volley of stinging cuts. Viva’s eyes water, but her hips push forward every time the cane falls, chasing the pain like it’s the only thing left she can feel.