No cuffs this time.
No commands.
Just a soft bed. Dim lights. Mirabel's bare hands.
But the tension? Still sharp. Still coiled like a whip.
Janelle lay still, her eyes half-lidded, body aching, throbbing between her legs. Every inch of her remembered the torture. Every nerve screamed for release. Her thighs were marked with faint bruises, her lips swollen from moaning too much. Her voice barely worked.
She didn't speak.
Didn't beg.
Not tonight.
Mirabel stood over her like a queen—dark eyes trailing her body with an emotion Janelle couldn't place. Something possessive. Something fierce. She climbed onto the bed slowly, like a predator stalking its prey… except this prey was already ready.
"Didn't I say you'd cum when I allow it?" she whispered, running a hand down Janelle's trembling thigh. "And I always keep my word."
Janelle's breath hitched. Her lips parted.
"But if you want it… you'll have to earn it."
Mirabel's fingers moved lower, just barely grazing her. Featherlight. Torturously slow.
"W-What do I have to do…?"
Mirabel smirked.
"You lie there. You take everything. No stopping. No hiding. You give me your moans, your tears, your whole f*cking soul."
Janelle whimpered, her hips twitching.
"Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mistress…"
Mirabel leaned in, mouth brushing hers.
"Then be a good girl…"
And she devoured her.
No toys. No remote. Just mouth, tongue, fingers, heat constant, punishing pleasure. No teasing this time. No breaks. It was fast, deep, relentless. Janelle sobbed as her climax crashed through her like a wildfire then another, and another.
Her legs gave out. Her throat went raw. Her eyes blurred with tears and bliss.
She couldn't even count how many times she came.
Mirabel didn't stop. Not until she was crying her name like a prayer. Not until her body went limp.
And even then, Mirabel whispered against her skin, "One more…"
And she gave it to her.
---
To be continued