Mom Professor Whore
Copyright© 2026 by SindeeM
Chapter 4: University President &
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 4: University President & - Book 1 of a continuing story of a woman who is Dean of Ethics and Professor at a University, a mother of two that is blackmailed into becoming a high priced whore. This chronicles how seemmingly normal people are slowly corrupted. This also exposes how public lives can be so different than private lives. Really f***d up relationships are also on display here. There is corporal punishment, heavy sex, non-consensual sex, humiliation, lesbian, interracial, double penetration, slavery.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Blackmail Coercion NonConsensual Rape Reluctant Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction BDSM MaleDom FemaleDom Humiliation Light Bond Rough Spanking Interracial Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Double Penetration Facial Oral Sex Tit-Fucking Prostitution
The estate of the Birching Society sat on a hill overlooking the city. It was a sprawling testament of old money and patriarchal power.
Charles Langford Whittaker walked into the grand foyer of the main house. He was the President of the University and Managing Director of the Birching Society.
He smiled as he was met by the familiar sights and smells of his sanctuary. He inhaled deeply, smelling the rich aroma of Cuban cigars. He felt that familiar sense of pride and control watching the young woman who greeted him.
Her body was squeezed into a tight corset that pushed her tits upward, spilling over the top of the corset. Her pierced, hard nipples were prominently displayed. She wore a tiny thong with her cunt lips clearly outlined in a perfect camel toe. The thin string of the thong ran between her tight ass cheeks. She wore the standard five-inch locking heels provided by the Society to all female staff.
She dropped to her knees with her legs spread and her hands on her thighs, palms up.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Whittaker. This cunt hopes your day is going well. Can this slut please suck your cock, Sir?”
Charles just smiled, thinking that this was how the world was supposed to work. He thought about how his predecessors had shaped the Society as it was today. This gave meaning to his life to lead this organization and keep it true to the principles of Patriarchy that held the chaos of the world at bay.
He motioned for the girl to get up. “You may go about your duties, slut.”
The girl nodded and continued with her assigned chores.
Charles went to the main sitting room. He entered and saw the man he was meeting sitting near the fireplace.
Charles sat down in the overstuffed chair. “Hello Ethan.”
Ethan Pullman was the new associate Professor of Mathematics at the University. He had on a dark gray suit, no tie, and perfectly polished shoes. His hair was dark and immaculately groomed. No hair was out of place.
Ethan motioned to one of the server staff to bring them both a drink. The staff were expected to know the preferences for every male in the Society.
Charles began the conversation. “You have been with the Society for only about six months, Ethan, but you have impressed us immensely. You have embraced our philosophy and ideals.”
Ethan replied. “Thank you, Charles. This organization is exactly what I’ve been looking for. The world is too soft and touchy-feely. We need to go back to what has made our species dominant on the planet.”
Charles nodded in agreement.
Ethan continued. “I was incredibly impressed as to how the staff are well-trained, subjugated females. These bitches reflect the fundamental philosophy of the organization. They are the visual representation of hundreds of years of well-honed patriarchal practices.”
Charles smiled. “Exactly Ethan. They are objects for men to control and use. They are reduced to their basest form. They’re ornaments to please the eye. They carry out menial, functional duties. And of course they are used for breeding.
A young woman brought them their drinks. She was perhaps twenty-five years old. She had had a voluptuous figure, large tits, and a full, round ass. She wore one of the standard uniforms of the Society which was the tight corset that displayed her tits and nipples and the thong that did nothing to hide her plump ass. She wore the standard five-inch locking heels. She had a short, twelve-inch hobble chain locked to her ankles.
The girl gave them their drinks and said, “Here are your drinks, sirs. Can this slut suck your cocks or be of service?”
Charles gestured to her with a smirk and said with contempt, “Look at the bitch, Ethan. The slut was a Ph.D. candidate at one of the top universities. She likely was writing her thesis on ethics or logic. Now, look at her. She’s been broken. She understands her place.”
Ethan took a sip of his scotch, looking at the girl. “She looks and sounds dedicated.”
Charles corrected Ethan. “Dedicated to being a piece of meat. That brand on her ass? The ‘B’? It’s not just for show. It’s a reminder that women are meant to be owned. They don’t have the intellectual capability to hold responsibility. Their only purpose is to serve men, to be good for breeding, and to handle the household chores.”
Ethan dismissed the girl with a wave of his hand. He watched as she walked away. The hobble chain forced her to take small steps, which made her big tits and fat ass wiggle seductively.
Charles announced to Ethan, “I’m going to buy Elizabeth.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “The Dean? The woman who thinks she runs Ethics department?”
With his eyes gleaming, Charles replied. “She thinks she runs it. She’s not part of the Birching Society, though. She thinks she’s above the rules. I’m going to show that bitch who is really in charge. I’m going to remind her that she is just a worthless set of fuckholes. I’ve negotiated with that Santoro fellow. She’s mine next Saturday.”
Ethan’s face lit up with a mix of excitement and greed. “That’s going to be a sight to see. The Dean of Ethics reduced to a common slut.”
“She’s going to beg for it, Ethan. “I’m inviting you to join me. We’re going to fuck her in every way possible. We’re going to degrade her and make her tell us she’s just a stupid slut whore. She needs to admit that her only value is in being used for our pleasure.”
“Does that include corporal punishment?” Ethan asked, his curiosity piqued. “I’ve read about the Society. I know the birch is an integral part of how bitches are trained.”
Charles considered the matter, tapping his chin thoughtfully. Santoro really owns the bitch, apparently. We need to be careful to not cause permanent damage.
Ethan scowled. “No branding, then I take it?”
Charles nodded. “Unfortunately, no.”
Smiling Charles continued. “Corporal punishment, yes. We tell the bitch that how much punishment she gets depends on her attitude. If she’s arrogant, if she tries to maintain that air of superiority, then brutal punishment. But if she’s a good little whore, maybe we’ll just fuck her until she can’t think straight.”
Charles continued. “Before she arrives next Saturday, I have some instructions for her. I’m going to have her purchase a red corset, a pair of five-inch locking high heels, and a slave collar with a tag that says Whore. She will go to the train station in the city, the main one, and wait to be picked up dressed exactly like that. She’ll be wearing a thong, of course, and I want her to wear her whore makeup. Heavy eyeliner, bright red lips. She’ll be waiting for us like a whore waiting for her next customer.”
Ethan nodded eagerly. “Make her display herself as a slut and whore in public. I like it.”
Charles grinned, a look of pure sadistic delight on his face. “Next Saturday, Elizabeth gets bought by us, Ethan. We’re going to break her completely.”
Dominic slid an envelope across the table. Elizabeth was expecting a list of names or perhaps a description of a wealthy donor. She opened it and froze. There were two names. Charles Langford Whitaker and Ethan Pullman.
Dominic said, “Your next customer, or rather, customers.”
Elizabeth’s breath hitched. She shivered at the word customers. The implication was that she was a commodity on a shelf rather than a person with a career and a reputation. She looked up, her eyes narrowing. “Charles? The President of the University?”
Dominic nodded, not bothering to hide his smirk. “Yes, Charles is also the head of the Birching society.
He continued, “Ethan Pullman.” The new Associate Professor of Mathematics at the University. He’s been a member of the Birching Society for a few months now as well. Quite the enthusiast from what I hear.”
You should research the Birching Society.”
Elizabeth got very angry. She slammed her hand on the table. The silverware clattered. “I thought you said you would handle this discreetly! I thought I was being used as a whore, not paraded around in front of my colleagues like a sideshow act!”
Dominic didn’t flinch. He took a slow sip of his drink. His eyes were cold and unyielding. “First, you are my whore. You do as I say when I say it. Second, we both have a lot to lose. If this gets out, Charles Whitaker’s presidency could be in jeopardy, and Ethan Pullman’s career could be ruined. It is in everyone’s best interest that this remains private. You’re just the mechanism that keeps the secret.”
Elizabeth sat back, still fuming. She stared at him and began to see the man behind the pimp. Dominic wasn’t just a thug using muscle. He was a tactician. He was building a portfolio of information, a web of leverage that ensnared men like Charles who believed they held absolute power. Elizabeth realized that she was just a pawn in his larger game. A piece he moved to expose the hypocrisy of the elite.
Elizabeth spat out, “You use me like a chess piece. I’m just a pawn in your sick manipulative game.”
Dominic set his glass down and leaned forward. “Wrong. You are not a pawn, Elizabeth. You are the Queen. You are the only one who can move among these men, infiltrate their circles, and get close enough to gather the dirt they try so hard to hide. You are the Queen in my chess game against these arrogant, over-confident men.”
She saw the logic, but it didn’t soothe her fear. She stared at him. “But how can I possibly have a professional relationship with them? How can I look them in the eye after they’ve used me as a fucktoy?”
As if he were reading her mind, Dominic said, “Dr. Collins has the professional relationship. She is the Dean who holds their tenure reviews in her hands. Vesper, on the other hand, is a professional set of fuckholes. She is what they need when they want to assert their power. They think they can buy anything or anyone.”
Elizabeth felt a flush of shame and arousal at the same time. “What do I need to do?”
Dominic replied. “You need to go shopping. A car is waiting outside. You’re going to an upscale BDSM shop. I want you to buy a red corset and a red thong. I believe you already have a pair of red locking high heels. Send the key to your locking high heels to Charles when you get home. You also need to get a slave collar with a tag that says Whore.”
Vesper could only node her head up and down.
The car ride was a blur. When Elizabeth arrived at the shop, a young Asian clerk greeted her with a warm, knowing smile. Elizabeth didn’t bother with pleasantries.
Elizabeth spoke to the clerk. “I need some things for a job. I’m a high-end whore. I need a red corset, a red thong, and a collar with a tag that says Whore.”
The clerk nodded. “We get a lot of customers like you, Dr. Collins. Or rather, like Vesper. I think I know exactly what you need.”
How does she know my name? Elizabeth thought.
She led Elizabeth to a display case filled with leather and lace. “Since you’ve just gotten your nipples pierced, I suggest adding a pair of silver clamps. They look great with a red corset.”
The clerk continued. “Since you’re going to be used thoroughly, you’ll need something to keep your asshole stretched and ready.”
The clerk opened a glass case. She pulled out a large, tapered plug. “I have a large ass plug. It’s roughly three inches wide. It’s heavy, and the slave gets an uncomfortable fullness. It’s large and thick. It’s perfect for keeping a whore’s hole prepared for use by her master.”
Elizabeth stared at the object. It was enormous. She could barely imagine fitting something that size inside her. Yet the thought sent a jolt of excitement through her. She imagined Charles and Ethan laughing as they saw it in her ass. Then pushing it in and out of her asshole, watching her struggle to accommodate it.
“Is ... is that really necessary?” Elizabeth stammered.
The clerk replied. “It ensures the whore stays open and submissive. Plus, it looks beautiful when she walks.”
The reality of the situation sunk in as she tried on the red corset and the collar around her neck. The tag with the word Whore was clearly visible.
The war was raging inside her head. Elizabeth fought to hold onto her dignity, to remember that she was a woman of intellect and authority.
Vesper was growing stronger. She was hungry for the degradation and eager to wear the collar and be used.
Elizabeth knew that she was going deeper into the persona of the whore. Vesper was loving every minute of it.
The clerk looked at Elizabeth and asked if she should put that on the card on file for Sofia Romano.
Elizabeth nodded.
The next Saturday evening Elizabeth began the ritual of transformation. First came the makeup. She put on the heavy black eyeliner and mascara. She painted her lips a glossy red. She painted her fingernails and toenails the same gloss red.
This was the mask of Vesper, the whore.
She rolled up the sheer black stockings and smoothed them up her legs until they were taut against her skin. She reached for the red corset. The leather was stiff and unforgiving. She struggled to cinch it tight. Her lungs burned as she pulled the laces. Her large tits spilled over the top of the lace cups. The corset was cut high enough that her nipples remained hidden but still poked through the leather.
She looked down at the locking high heels. She slid her feet into them. She twisted the lock until it clicked into place. She was trapped.
She felt a wave of panic thinking, “Only Charles has the key. I won’t be able to take these damned things off until he unlocks them.
She fastened the slave collar around her neck. The tag with WHORE was stamped in large, bold white letters. It was a declaration that would be visible from several feet away.
She froze, terrified that her kids might walk in. But they were both out with friends for the night, so she was safe for now.
Vesper giggled. “Wonderfully kinky. Being owned like a dog.”
The final step was the most daunting. She lubed up the large ass plug and her asshole. She took a deep breath and tried to push it in. The widest part of the plug was too wide to pass her sphincter. She tried again, but her body refused to stretch. She pushed her legs up onto the vanity. Her wet cunt glistened in the light. She stared at her tight, puckered asshole. The monster plug was going to be impossible to go in.
Elizabeth closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. She tried to relax the muscle that was clamped shut. In ... out ... relax. She pressed the tip against her hole. It pushed in a little further. She breathed again and pushed harder. Slowly and agonizingly, her asshole began to stretch.
The resistance gave way after about ten minutes of sheer determination. With one final, hard push, the plug slid into her body. The plug sealed her asshole shut. She had never felt so completely stuffed in her entire life.
She put on the red thong. The thin strap went up between her ass cheeks, barely hiding the plug. She was ready.
She drove to the train station and parked in the closest spot she could find. It was still a long walk from the building. She didn’t need a coat since it was summer. That left her outfit on full display. She glanced in the rearview mirror. What stared back at her was not Elizabeth. It was Vesper.
The woman in the mirror looked like a slutty street walker.
Vesper spoke up in her mind. “Okay, I’m taking over. The whore is going to be on display for everyone to see. Let’s try not to get an ad-hoc customer that wants a blowjob on the walk to the building.”
The thought made Elizabeth’s stomach turn.
She walked to the terminal and sat down at an empty bench. The stares began the moment she stepped out of the car. Heads turned, eyes widened, and whispers rippled through the crowd in the train station lobby. She heard the words “whore,” “prostitute,” and “slut.
Elizabeth shrank into herself, but Vesper sat up straight with her head held high.
The internal war was over. Elizabeth had surrendered for now. Vesper the whore was now waiting for her customer to come fetch the whore he paid for.
Vesper scanned the crowded terminal. She looked for any sign of the car or driver.
Then a shadow fell over her. A big, burly man in a crisp chauffeur’s uniform approached. He didn’t look at her face. He looked at the corset, the collar, and the red heels. He recognized a whore the moment he saw her. He held a small leather bag in his hand.
“I’m here to take you to the estate,” he rumbled.
He handed her an envelope with money in it. Vesper closed her eyes. She had just sold her body.
With a low, growly voice. He said, “You need to finish getting ready.”
Vesper blinked. “Finish getting ready. What is that supposed to mean?”
She looked at the bag, then back at him. “Ohhhhhh no, please...”
Without a word of explanation, he reached down and clipped a twelve-inch hobble chain to the locking mechanism of her heels.
“Turn around, bitch,” he commanded.
Elizabeth’s heart hammered against her ribs as she complied. He didn’t ask for permission. He cuffed her wrists behind her back. He stepped closer. “Open your mouth, whore.”
She parted her lips, and he stuffed a large, red ball gag into her mouth. It forced her jaw wide open. He buckled it behind her neck. He clipped a leash to the ring of her collar and gave it a sharp tug.
He ordered, “Come on, slut.”
He led her out of the station. People stopped to look at the hobbled, gagged woman being dragged along the sidewalk. Elizabeth felt the blood rush to her face. She tried to lift her feet to walk, but the hobble chain was too short. She had to take short steps. She stumbled slightly as she was pulled forward. She felt like a dog on a leash. She was a spectacle for everyone to see. She began to drool. The saliva dripped down her chin between her tits.
The drive to the estate was agonizingly long. The only sound in the car was her heavy breathing and the wet sounds of her drooling. Her feet and calves ached from the locked heels and the restrictive chain.
Her mind raced with terror. What were they going to do to her? How far would they degrade her? She imagined them taking turns and using every hole until she was raw and broken.
The car finally pulled up to a side entrance. A female was waiting there. She helped Elizabeth out of the vehicle. She guided her to the study, where Charles and Ethan were waiting.
Elizabeth’s calves burned with every step. The hobble chain forced her to take mincing steps. Her tits higgled with every step. She looked like a mess with drool dripping out of her mouth and down between her tits. Her mascara was already running. As they walked, Vesper noticed the woman guiding her had a brand on her ass. It was a capital ‘B’ burned into her flesh.
They reached the study door. The female knocked and announced. “Master Charles and Master Ethan, the whore is here.”
Vesper hobbled into the room. She stood before the two men. Ethan, looking bored and arrogant. He pointed a finger at the carpet. “Kneel, bitch.”
Vesper didn’t hesitate. She dropped to her knees. the chain between her heels rattling softly on the floor. She waited with head bowed. Drool trickled from the corner of her gagged mouth. She waited for the first command.
The silence was the worst part. She struggled to breathe through her nose. A stream of drool dripped from around the ball gag.
Elizabeth imagined what she looked like to these men.
Dr. Elizabeth Collins, the Dean of Philosophy and Ethics was on her knees in a room with two men she worked with at the University. She was dressed like a cheap street whore. A red corset squeezed her ribs. A slave collar clamped around her neck with Whore stamped on it. A gag stuffed in her mouth.
The Vesper persona spoke up in her head, cutting through the panic. No, Professor. Look at the situation. Vesper, the whore, is kneeling here. Dr. Collins needs to go to her space in her mind. She needs to let go of the pretense.”
Ethan broke the silence. “What a disgusting cheap whore. I thought the bitch might be attractive in some fashion. Maybe in a trashy way. I could get this cheap whore down by the tracks anytime.”
Charles chuckled and leaned back in his leather chair. “Yes, but that’s Dr. Elizabeth Collins down there as our whore. That’s the best part. It’s not just the fuckholes themselves. It’s the fact that I can buy Dr. Collins the whore anytime I want. It makes the degradation so much sweeter.”
Ethan walked around her, inspecting her like livestock. “I guess, but look at that fat ass. I bet those tits sag down to her knees by now. I wonder if all of her holes are stretched out from taking so much cock.”
Charles chuckled again. “Well, we’ll find out.”
Ethan sneered. “She looks defiant to me, Charles. I think this bitch needs some education on what the fuck she is.”
Charles stood up and unbuckled the ball gag. He pulled it out with a sharp yank. A long, thick line of drool immediately cascaded down her chin and soaked the top of her red corset. He grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her head up. “What are you, slut?”
Vesper wasn’t sure how to answer. She tried to summon every ounce of pathetic desire she could. She looked up with wide, watery eyes. The drool still dripped out of her mouth. “I’m just a fucktoy and a whore for you, Sir. Please use this whore for your pleasure.”
Charles looked at Ethan, raising an eyebrow. “Believe her?”
Ethan shook his head side to side with a cruel smile on his face. “Nope. Not even close. She’s acting. She’s still trying to be the Dean.”
Vesper began to violently shake her head back and forth. “Please, sir, please let me show you how much of a slut I am! I’m not Dean Collins right now! I’m just a stupid cunt! Please, let me prove it to you!”
Charles looked at Vesper and said in a low voice, “Listen to her, Ethan. This is what happens when you give a woman a degree. She thinks she’s something special.”
Ethan slapped her face. “She’s nothing. Bitches like her just don’t have the brains to operate in a university. They’re too stupid and emotional. They belong on their backs, taking cock.”
Elizabeth stared up at him with her face burning from the slap. She nodded frantically. “I’m nothing. I have no brains. I’m just a dumb cunt. I belong on my back, taking cock.”
Charles smiled and slapped her other cheek hard enough to snap her head back. “Exactly, she’s a useless cunt with a fancy piece of paper.”
Vespe repeated the words, knowing that’s what they wanted to hear.
“I’m a useless cunt. I’m not smart. I’m just a stupid whore.”
Ethan grabbed her hair, forcing her to look at him. “That’s right. You thought you were a professor? You thought you were a Dean? You’re just a dumb bitch who needs a cock in her mouth to feel useful.”
Vesper cried out with fake desperation in her voice. “I’m just a dumb bitch. My brain is empty! I can’t think! I just have a tight cunt and a warm mouth! I’m just a set of fuckholes for your pleasure!”
Charles grinned. “She knows her place. She’s a fuck toy. That’s her only job. She’s nothing but a warm set of holes for us to dump our loads in.”
Vesper again repeated what they said. “Yes, I’m just warm fuckholes! I’m a stupid slut! Use me! Fuck me! I’m nothing!”
Ethan looked at Vesper. “Tell us, Dr. Collins. What’s the smartest thing in your head?”
Vesper stammered. She felt tears starting to form. “I ... I don’t know...”
Charles snapped back. “Think harder, you dumb slut. What’s the only thing that matters?”
Vesper whispered. “A ... a cock.”
“Louder!” Ethan yelled.
Vesper yelled, “A cock!” The smartest thing in my head is a cock! I’m just a set of fuckholes for your pleasure!”
Charles smiled in victory. “That’s it. Say it again.”
“I’m just a set of fuckholes for your pleasure! I’m just a mindless whore and fucktoy!”
Ethan grabbed the leash attached to her collar. “Come on, bitch. Let’s go see if those holes are stretched out.”
He pulled her up.
She stumbled, her locked heels unable to take a full step. He led her down the hallway. Her heavy tits bounced with every awkward step. The ass plug winked at Charles from between her ass cheeks as he followed.
The heavy oak door creaked open. It was a playroom for the men and a literal hell for the women. The lighting was dim and cast long shadows that made the room feel claustrophobic. The walls were plastered with faux-medieval torture devices. It was a medieval dungeon designed specifically to terrify the female victims brought here to be broken.
In the center, a wooden St. Andrew’s cross stood near the center of the room. Chains hung from the ceiling waiting to drag victims into the air. Heavy wooden stocks sat in the corner, waiting to lock in the head and arms of a victim. There was a spanking and caning bench where the victim’s head was lower than her ass. It left the backside of a slave perfectly positioned for a severe thrashing. An automatic ass spanker was ready to deliver rhythmic blows. An automated fucking machine sat near the opposite wall. It had two huge, menacing dildos, one for the cunt and one for the ass. The walls of the room were lined with a collection of paddles, canes, whips, and riding crops.
There was a gyno chair in the corner. Vesper could not even imagine the horrific torture that happened there. There was a “blowjob” stool that forced a girl to squat down on two large dildos, one in her ass and one in her cunt. A swinging chair allowed the man to sit comfortably while the girl was forced to take his cock deep into her throat.
She was led to a bench where a slave would be forced to kneel in front of a table about chest high.
The walls told the real story. They were adorned with high-definition photos of extreme corporal punishment. There were images of girls with red, blistered asses from spanking. There were photos with deep red welt marks from caning and fronts striped with whip marks. She saw tits tied tight until they turned blue from the tight bondage. Photos of girls gagging on thick cocks and girls getting huge cocks in their cunts and asses. The photos showed cum-covered faces, tits dripping with seed, and cum dripping out of their cunts and assholes. There were up-close photos of a cunt with the girl’s lips stretched wide open and a five-cornered clamp around the clit exposing the swollen nub.
Vesper stood frozen in shock. Dominic had three rules: no underage, no permanent damage, and no animals. They could do anything else to her. She was terrified. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Deep down, a sick thrill coursed through her veins. Vesper was moaning with anticipation at the sight of the equipment.
Ethan pulled her into the room. His eyes scanned her body with undisguised lust.
Looking at Charles, Ethan said, “I don’t believe what she says about being a dumb set of fuckholes. Look at her. She’s still trying to act like she has some dignity. I say, strip this worthless whore and see what she’s hiding.”
Charles grinned and undid the laces of her red corset. The leather corset fell away. Her large, heavy tits hug down. They had a natural sag but retained a surprising firmness.
Charles grabbed her tits and squeezed. His fingers dug into the soft flesh.
Charles grunted. “Nice. Not too saggy yet.”
Ethan stepped closer and examined her tits. “Hmmmm, yea. Not bad, I suppose for an old cunt.”
Ethan reached down and pulled her thong down.
Charles didn’t wait. “Bend over, bitch. Spread your ass cheeks.”
Elizabeth felt her whole body blush. She bent at the waist, and with her hands still cuffed behind her, spread her legs wide. She grabbed her ass cheeks and pulled them apart.
The cool air hit her exposed cunt. A shiver went down her spine. The large ass plug was clearly visible as it stretched her hole.
Ethan laughed and pointed a finger at her. “Bitch knows enough to keep that fuckhole loose. I like that.”
He motioned her over to the torture table. She shuffled over on her locking heels and sank to her knees. As she leaned forward, she realized the table was exactly the right height. Her heavy, large tits slid onto the cool wood of the table. They sat on the surface and were fully exposed and incredibly vulnerable.
Ethan moved behind her and began to strap her legs and middle section to the table. Her tits felt completely at his mercy.
Ethan walked over to the wall and surveyed the collection of whips and crops. He selected a riding crop. Ethan reached for the rack of torture gear. His eyes gleamed with sadistic intent. He selected a set of small, silver chains attached to heavy-duty alligator clamps.
He returned holding a riding crop. He flicked it against the table with a sharp crack. The sound echoed through the room.
He grabbed one of her nipples and lifted up one of her big floppy tits and then let go, with it flopping back to the table.
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