The Hellish Corridor

Miel grabbed Emma by the wrists, still bruised from the restraints, her nails digging into the tender flesh like claws. "Walk, ****," she ordered in a smooth voice, pulling roughly. Emma stumbled, her trembling thighs rubbing together, her aching sex leaking a mixture of fluids down her legs.

On the way, a guard with a whip pinned her against the wall and addressed Miel,

• Is she new? The court has ruled, she's available.

Miel nodded.

• Yes, sir, the findings are pending, she's available.

Without further ado, the man buried himself inside Emma to the hilt, making her cry out slightly.

• I love these little whores who just got their ass kicked by the court, they're so wrecked.

He began to thrust into Emma roughly, her chest painfully hitting the wall under the thrusts.

The guard grunted, his hands gripping Emma's hips with a brutality that left bright red marks on her pale skin. Each thrust pinned her against the wall, the rough concrete scraping her already sensitive breasts. She felt her stomach tighten as he reached an obscene depth, her breath caught by the repeated impact.

"Are you crying already, bitch?" he sneered, digging his fingers into her ribs.

Emma gritted her teeth, a mixture of pain and shame burning her cheeks as the guard plowed her body mercilessly. Her cries were a relief from so many years of restraint, each gasp caught in her throat as her pelvis hit the wall hard, and yet she felt so good, drained of her star-making frustration, she was nothing more than a sex object in his hands. He emptied himself inside her like a cum sack, threw her to the ground, took her back to her cell, maybe I'll go visit her with some friends.

Miel pulled her up with a brutal tug, her nails digging into the damp flesh of Emma's arms. "Get up, trash," she snarled, twisting a nipple between her gloved fingers, eliciting a hoarse moan. Emma's footsteps slapped on the damp floor, each stride awakening a burning sensation between her open thighs.

Another, larger guard blocked their path in the corridor. He pinned Emma against the wall and pulled out his whip, cracking it on the floor.

• Give me a blowjob, Miel, while I christen the new girl with a whip.

Miel got to her knees and began taking the man's cock in her mouth as the whip cracked against Emma's left buttock.

The whip lashed out a second time, this time on Emma's right hip, leaving a scarlet trail across her damp skin. She arched her back, a hoarse cry escaping her as Honey, on her knees, expertly swallowed the guard's member, her black-lacquered lips closing with calculated pressure.

The third stroke of the whip landed diagonally across her already scarred buttocks, and Emma felt her legs tremble, her knees weakening from the exquisite pain.

• Turn around and spread your legs; your sex is going to take a beating.

Emma obeyed with difficulty, gripped by such delicious and exciting terror.

• You're wet, well, you'll like it.

The whip hissed, striking Emma's clitoris with cruel precision. She screamed, her body arching violently, the muscles of her stomach tensing like ropes. The pain radiated in burning waves, mingling with a perverse pleasure that made her tremble from knees to lips.

The man struck her crotch repeatedly, then her breasts mercilessly. Emma screamed in both pleasure and pain, until she collapsed, overcome by a wet orgasm. Her thighs still trembled, her clenched fingers scraping the cold floor as a trickle of saliva dripped from her parted lips. The guard sneered, his whip sliding along her soaked thigh before delivering a final slap to her hip, making her scarred skin tingle.

Her thighs still trembled, her clenched fingers scraping the cold floor as a trickle of saliva dripped from her parted lips. The guard sneered, his whip sliding along her soaked thigh before delivering a final slap to her hip, making her scarred skin tingle. As he came in Miel's mouth, she swallowed perfectly without spilling a drop.

Emma stood up with wobbly legs. Miel helped her, looking at her a little worried.

• Are you okay, Slavia?

Emma, although weakened, was satisfied. What happened next was promising. She smiled, responding with a greedy but tired smile.

• Yes, it's still as intense.

Miel held back a laugh.

• That was a sweet appetizer, you'll see.