Sex slave: Black Sonja

Mandy Bright doesn't forgive trespass. Sonja came looking for peace and open air. Now she hangs naked in a dim room thick with cigarette smoke and leather. Every strap bites. Her ankles are spread wide, wrists locked behind her back so her breasts thrust forward, nipples already stiff from the chill. Mandy smokes, watches, tilts her head, then stubs the cigarette out on the soft top curve of Sonja's right breast and twists. Skin sears. Sonja gasps, hips jerking forward. Mandy trails her fingers down between spread thighs, finds Sonja wet despite everything, and laughs low in her throat. Two fingers push in without warning, curl, press hard against the spongy spot that makes Sonja's belly clench. Juice drips down Mandy's wrist. She adds a third finger, pumps faster, thumb circling the clit until Sonja trembles and tries to close her legs. Mandy kicks the spreader bar wider. 'You wandered into the wrong garden, girl.' She pulls out, wipes slick fingers across Sonja's open mouth, then returns with a thick, ridged strap-on already glistening. No mercy, no ceremony. One thrust seats it deep. Sonja cries out; the burn, the stretch, the forced fullness. Mandy fucks her in steady, punishing strokes, slapping against her ass with each drive, free hand pinching and tugging her clit until she sobs. Orgasm rips through Sonja, sharp and involuntary, cunt pulsing around the invading length. Mandy keeps moving through every aftershock, until Sonja hangs limp and dripping. "Next time you think twice," she murmurs, voice velvet over steel. Sonja won't forget.