“So you believe,” Madame Lina’s voice grew sharp. “Now, Claire. We await your pleasure.”
The blonde drew in her breath at the rebuke, and then mounted the bed. She positioned herself above Jocelyn, and the curly-haired woman realized what she intended.
“No,” she entreated, “No, this is not right.”
Madame Lina stroked her face again. “Ah, we decide what is right, Jocelyn. You merely accept. That is what it means to be a slave. And you are my son’s slave, which means I may command you, as I command Claire. And Claire, I command you to f**k her hard.”
The girl, so directed, slammed the phallus into Jocelyn’s unprotected vial of pleasure. The r***d girl cried out, more at the shock of the cold leather than the pain, and Madame Lina covered her mouth, admonishing, “I told you not t
