I watched her writhe, her body laid bare on the tile floor, a far cry from the composed Miss Evelyn. The sight alone made my lips curl as I dragged the polished tip of my boot over the damp silk of her panties, savoring the way her thighs twitched in response.
A shudder wracked her frame, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, but it wasn't enough. A broken moan escaped her, trembling and sweet.
"Interesting reaction." My voice was low, amused, as I pressed down harder, the leather grinding against her swollen flesh.
I'd had women of every kind, so many that the act itself had long since lost its thrill. But her? The way she mirrored him, yet soft and yielding where he was not, that was intoxicating.
I denied her relief, withdrawing just as her hips jerked forward, chasing the pressure. Her breath hitched, eyes glistening with unshed tears, accusation burning in her gaze.
"Now you understand why I want to keep you." I took a deliberate step forward, my boot hovering just above her aching cunt.
"So, what's your answer?"
"Agree or leave." My gaze raked over her—the disheveled bra barely containing her breasts, one dusky nipple peeking through the lace. Her body trembled, poised on the knife's edge between resistance and surrender.
So I pushed her further.
The toe of my boot traced her slit through the soaked fabric, feather-light, taunting.
"Yes, or no?" I repeated, each word punctuated by another torturous brush, never enough, never giving.
She arched, thighs straining to snap shut—only for my other foot to wedge between them, forcing her open. A whimper tore from her throat as she twisted, desperate, but I stepped back just as she tried to grind down.
"Answer." My voice left no room for defiance.
"Y-yes… yes—!" The words spilled out in a rush, her face flushed crimson, the heat spreading down her neck, her chest.
I smirked.
Then I pressed down fully, the leather molding against her, the soaked silk of her panties yielding as her body greedily sucked them deeper.
She writhed, caught between pleasure and torment, her sanity unraveling as she chased the pressure, hips rolling against my boot.
"Say it again."
Her eyes were glazed, lost—until I pulled back slightly. Panic flashed across her face.
"Yes! I—I agree!" She babbled, scrambling forward, only for me to press down once more.
Her climax was slow, agonizing—every muscle taut, back arched, tears streaking her cheeks as her hands clawed at her own breasts.
"Yes, yes, YES—!" Her chant dissolved into a wordless cry, tongue lolling, body seizing as release tore through her—
And then she broke.
Her bladder gave way, a hot rush of piss joining the slick mess between her thighs, painting my boots, the tiles beneath her. I didn't relent, didn't let her breathe—just drove her higher, my voice a relentless command.
"Say it Again." I kept repeating the question making her answer, each reply accompanied by a painfully shudder as my boot tugged at her swollen Clint.
Though she seemed to love the sensation, so she kept replying.
She obeyed, even as her arms fell limp, her arched back strained, her body collapsing with a thud, eyes rolling back. Her legs spasmed around my boot, cunt fluttering as another weak stream trickled out—
Until finally, she went still.
"Quite the spectacle." I withdrew, crouching beside her to slap her cheek lightly. Her head lolled, her slack expression still etched with bliss. So with a final slap I stopped as I saw her now red face, still showing absolute bliss.
I yanked her flimsy white shirt, the last stubborn button snapping free with a sharp pop as the thin fabric gave way beneath my grip. The cotton tore with a satisfying rip, splitting down the middle like it had been begging to be ruined. I flung the shredded rags to the floor without a glance. Her bra followed—its hook already strained, it snapped apart beneath my fingers with a muted crack. I tore it away, her arms swaying limply with the motion as I stripped it clean off her body.
Then came that pathetic excuse for a skirt—tight, thin, and clinging to her hips like it was afraid to let go. I grabbed it and wrenched it down, throwing it aside like trash. What remained barely counted as underwear—her panties were already soaked, the middle part wedged deep between her folds like it had been swallowed by her own heat. It clung to her, glistening, almost trembling. I stared down at it with a grin.
With a slow, deliberate tug, I peeled the fabric from her, watching it pull slick from her slit, a thin string of arousal stretching and snapping as it came loose. She flinched, breath catching, hips twitching. Another gush welled up in her wake, dampening the scrap of silk as I held it in my hand for a beat—then dropped it like it was nothing.
I stepped back, letting my eyes roam, taking in the sight of her now completely bare—stripped and exposed for all to see.
The shower's spray hit her swollen clit directly now, her puffy lips glistening.
I hauled her up, one arm beneath her knees, the other cradling her neck, and carried her to the bed. She landed in a boneless heap as I turned back to the bathroom.
There, I stripped, shirt discarded, pants shoved down, underwear peeled away, freeing my cock, already hard and throbbing.
"We'll have our fun soon." I palmed myself, stroking slowly as cold water cascaded over me.