Bitchcraft #07, Scene #02

Crimson hair tumbled around her shoulders as Mz. Berlin paused at the top of Manuel’s grand staircase, black latex gleaming under the lights. Below her, Dia knelt at the bottom step in nothing but nerves. Berlin descended. Her hands moved fast—stripping the blonde bare, looping the leash through the wrought-iron rail, snapping it tight. She eased a modest plug into Dia’s mouth first, then into her ass. “That was a little too easy. You definitely need a bigger one.” The first slap cracked across bare skin. Dia jerked. The leash held her to a few humiliating feet, enough for Berlin to pace and flog the lifted cheeks until they flushed pink. When the second, thicker plug pressed forward, Dia’s shout was smothered by rubber already lodged between her teeth. Berlin settled on the stair above, legs spread, and let Dia work through the diamond weave of her fishnets until the nylon glistened. At the landing she took the flogger again, striping Dia’s back in long, deliberate strokes, then flipped her so the girl’s ass hovered above her own upturned face. The next plug sank deep. Berlin pinned the Magic Wand to Dia’s cunt and watched her come, thighs quaking, voice raw. On all fours again, Dia’s tongue was split and bound between two wooden sticks. The cane landed with crisp precision, striping her ass into a blaze of scarlet mottled with purple. Berlin rolled her over, struck the soft swell of her mound until it shone wet, then sealed her clit inside a glass tube and pumped. The nub swelled, flushed, straining against its tiny cage. Finally, Berlin fastened a gag bristling with vibration to the girl’s face. On hands and knees, Berlin backed onto it and rode until her breath hitched. She did not linger in mercy; her attention turned lower, already shaping the next violation of Dia’s offered ass.