Ivy

A new girl arrives. Ivy. They bind her fast and stretch her across the dungeon floor. Rope bites into her limbs. Metal bars force her open. She fights the stretch until the gag cuts the fight short. Leather straps her mouth wide, the ball wedged behind her teeth. Every breath hisses through her nose. She pulls; the rope sings back. The first cane stroke lands across her ass. She jerks, hips snapping. The second lands lower, catching the crease where skin is already flushed. Sweat beads. She drools around the rubber ball, chin wet. Each swing lands harder than the last, red lines crossing, heat rising. She twists, helpless, the bars locking her in place. Her thighs quiver, but the ties never give. Only the cane moves. Only her body answers.