Sex slave: Ginna

Santa unbuckled the wide black belt that hung low on her hips. She folded the leather once, feeling the heat radiating off her own body. Ginna stood naked under the lights, nipples tightened to hard little points, ass cheeks already turning pink. Santa pulled the strap back and brought it down hard across the swell of Ginna's backside. Leather cracked flesh. Ginna grunted and rocked forward, toes curling against the rug. Again. The smack echoed sharp and wet. Each blow landed where Santa aimed—meat of the thigh, the fullest part of the ass, the tender crease where leg met cheek. The skin deepened from pink to an angry crimson that pulsed when Santa paused. Sweat gleamed along Ginna's spine. Santa leaned in, voice low and warm against Ginna's ear: 'I know you were bad. And tonight, sweetheart, bad is exactly what gets rewarded.' She licked a drop of sweat from the blonde's shoulder, then swung the belt again, harder. Ginna's moan slid out without her permission. Santa smiled like a cat with cream and brought the leather home once more.