Sex slave: Szilvia

Szilvia’s face lights up every time the cuffs click shut, and today she’s got a fresh pair clamped around her wrists. Lady Wendi just walked in—new leather scent still hanging off her—and Szilvia is the first girl she’s got the run of. The lady doesn’t waste words. A tug on the short leash and Szilvia’s already on her knees, chest up, cunt open, pulse kicking like a bass drum. Wendi slides gloved fingers inside that soaked slit, knuckle-deep, then spreads her wide just to watch the tremble. Szilvia moans loud as hell when the clamp bites down on her nipple, the sting chasing straight to her clit. A hard slap across the tits follows; the sound cracks and Szilvia thanks her for it, voice shaking. Wendi grins, spins her around, bends her over the bench. One gloved thumb works Szilvia’s asshole in slick, shallow pumps while she counts the seconds until the girl begs. The strap lands five strokes later—sharp, perfect stripes across both cheeks—while Szilvia leaks down her own thigh and grinds on nothing. When Wendi yanks the leash and pulls her mouth to a dripping cunt, Szilvia licks like she was born for it, nose buried, tongue flat and greedy. Wendi grinds on that face, growls once, then cums quick and hard, thighs shaking around Szilvia’s ears. They’re just getting started.