Behind Bars

Angelica Heart sits in a cell that smells of metal and sweat. The bars have already left rusty marks on her wrists. Across the cage stands Honey Demon, uniform unbuttoned just enough to show the swell of her breasts and the taut leather strap hugging her hips. She taps the bars once. The sharp note makes Angelica look up. "I can make the files disappear," Honey says, voice low and even. "But everything has its price." She slides two fingers between the bars, beckons. Angelica rises without hesitation, steps forward until her body presses the cold metal. Honey reaches in, finds the hem of Angelica's thin shirt, and drags it upward, exposing warm skin to the draft. Nipples tighten at once. Honey’s other hand dips into her own belt, unbuckles, and frees the thick strap-on already slick from earlier preparation. She angles the blunt head between the bars, presses it against Angelica’s lower belly, and waits. Angelica understands. She sinks to her knees on the concrete, takes the toy into her mouth until her lips meet the front of the harness. Spit coats the shaft; she works it deeper, throat flexing, eyes half-lidded but locked on Honey’s gaze. Honey threads fingers through Angelica’s hair, guiding the rhythm, hips rolling once, twice. When the shaft glistens, Honey withdraws, steps around the bars, and unlocks the door. She enters without a word. Angelica stays on her knees but turns, presenting. Honey kneels behind her, spreads her cheeks with both hands, and pushes inside in a single, steady thrust. Angelica’s breath catches; the stretch burns sweet. Honey fucks her with measured power—long, deliberate strokes that slap skin against skin and echo off the empty corridor. Each impact drives Angelica forward until her cheek rests on the cool floor, mouth open around a low, steady moan. Honey reaches beneath, finds Angelica’s clit, and rubs tight circles in time with each thrust. Heat coils low and fast. Angelica comes first, thighs shaking, cunt pulsing around the strap. Honey keeps moving, drawing every aftershock until Angelica’s sounds turn hoarse. Only then does Honey pull out, stands, and wipes the toy clean on Angelica’s discarded shirt. "Consider the paperwork handled," she says, buckling up. She leaves the cell door open behind her. Angelica remains on the floor, breathing hard, already calculating how soon she might need to pay again.