Showing Her The Ropes

Carrie was sulking when Victoria told her she was moving. The woman had a way of hurting her just right, knowing exactly when to pull back and when to strike. Carrie feared she'd never taste that kind of control again. Bondsmen like Victoria rarely existed outside fantasy. Victoria knew it too, so she offered Rachel a quick education—told her Carrie would be the demonstration model. The lesson started with Carrie stripped and lashed to the doorframe, wrists bound above, ankles spread. Victoria flicked the single-tail across Carrie's tits and thigh, then handed it off to Rachel. "Strike here," she said, tapping the muscle below Carrie's ass. Each crack warmed the skin deeper. They made Carrie wait with an untouched vibrator buzzing between swollen folds. Rachel's fingers circled the need until Carrie rocked her hips, then withdrew completely. When Rachel slid in two fingers and found no resistance, Victoria stepped behind her and fit the harness around her hips. The strap-on followed—slow push, sharp stretch, until Carrie's back arched off the wood. They fucked her with measured strokes, whispering corrections, one of them always keeping a hand on her throat or her nipples or the taut rope holding her upright. Carrie came each time they chose, loud and dirty against the door, voice cracking with every deliberate thrust and denial that followed.