“I like the nails, Clarisse,” he encouraged the woman.
By then, the pitiless female was hearing nothing but the inner muse that drove her spite filled actions. Perhaps she was living out a dream from a twisted past, or taking revenge on a lover through Violet’s surrendered flesh. Maybe, she was just plain cruel. Whatever the case, the woman who carried out this merciless scene was not the genteel female who began with genteel kisses and a delicate touch. Her nails bit like knifes. Her callous hand stung, connecting with Violet’s ass. Unpredictable and hard to read, she continued torturing her suffering victim with her sharp nails and her angry smacks and the occasional swat from the miserable bamboo.
Though the tormented blonde could have closed in on herself to fend off the repeated att
