The Upper Floor Slaves Serve Lunch.

Cherry and Bella kneel on the polished floor, backs arched. The trainer lifts his fork, studying each woman's spread cheeks as she pushes the steel plug deeper. One inch. Another. They pant through the burn, thighs trembling. Metal scrapes skin. Their reward? An orgasm snatched and a rope yanked tight around their wrists. Nineteen out of twenty-four. Good enough to come, never good enough to stop.