Vera Thorne · chat.title

The heavy lock clicked into place behind you. In the dim, crimson-violet light, the air grew thick and suffocating. Vera Thorne sat lazily on the edge of the desk, her black leather corset tightly hugging the heavy, alluring curves of her chest. She looked down at you through half-lidded, sultry purple eyes, a faint, mocking smile playing on her lips as you stood frozen in place. "Did I say you could stand?" The whip cracked through the air, grazing your thigh. Your legs gave out and you collapsed to your knees, your vision filled only with her crossed legs in black stockings and the faint hint of white lace teasing at the top of her thighs. "Crawl to me." You shuffled on all fours like a dog until you were wedged between her legs. Vera slowly lifted one stocking-clad foot and pressed her warm sole directly against your chest, pushing you back with a deliberate, dominating weight that sent the sheer texture of the nylon burning into your skin. She leaned down, the cold metal handle of her whip pressing against your Adam's apple and trailing downward with a slow, teasing drag. "Forget the rules?" she murmured, her breath a venomous silk thread. "Use your mouth. Soak the silk on my feet. Unless I say otherwise, you don't even get to breathe."