The room was cold.
But her body wasn't.
Her skin was flushed, her chest rising too fast, her wrists pulled tight above her head—cuffed to the headboard in sleek black leather. Legs wide. Shaking. Dripping.
Janelle was wrecked.
The remote-control toy had been buzzing inside her for nearly an hour off and on, unpredictable, cruel. Her thighs trembled from trying to close. Her soaked cunt glistened in the low red light, twitching every time the toy pulsed.
Mirabel stood at the foot of the bed, heels clicking against the marble floor like a countdown to destruction. Dressed in nothing but black lingerie and a silk robe, she watched arms folded, sipping from a wine glass as if her little plaything wasn't dying in heat.
"Who made you feel this way?" she asked, calmly.
Janelle moaned, hips lifting off the bed.
"You," she whimpered, eyes glazed, pupils blown wide.
A slap hard, fast, across her inner thigh.
Wrong answer.
Mirabel walked forward slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed, gripping Janelle's jaw. "Try again."
Her voice was low, deadly sweet.
"Mistress... You did, Mistress."
"That's better."
Click.
The toy exploded to life again ruthless vibration. Janelle screamed body jerking, tears streaking down her flushed cheeks, back arching as if her soul was leaving her body.
She tried to close her legs. Couldn't.
She tried to move her hands. Useless.
She tried to hold it in.
Failed.
"Don't you dare cum," Mirabel growled, one hand slipping down her own thigh as she watched, biting her lip. "Not a single drop."
"I can't!" Janelle sobbed.
"Yes, you can."
Another click—even higher.
The toy buzzed violently inside her, practically assaulting her from within. Her toes curled, her lips parted, and her entire body shook from head to toe.
Mirabel leaned down.
Licked a stripe up her neck.
"You wanna cum?"
"Y-Yes, please—Mistress—please..."
Smack. The riding crop landed again this time across both thighs. Janelle cried out.
"Say thank you."
"Th-thank you—Mistress—thank you!"
Another click.
Silence.
The toy powered off.
Janelle collapsed, panting, sobbing, thighs twitching from the denial. Her cunt clenched around nothing starving.
Mirabel leaned in, kissed her temple, and whispered:
"You'll cum when I say you can... and not a second before."
She stood up, placing the remote on the nightstand like a sacred weapon.
"Now stay just like that. Maybe I'll be generous after dinner…"
And she walked out, leaving Janelle tied, soaked, and begging for mercy that wouldn't come.
---
To be continued