Yes

Nicole’s hips snap forward, the thick silicone head breaching Brittney’s slick entrance with a wet *schluck*. The girl’s back arches, a strangled gasp catching in her throat, but she bites it down, remembering the warning. Nicole leans over her, breasts brushing Brittney’s spine, and growls, “I’m gonna fuck you like you’ve never had it before.”

Brittney’s eyes still glassy with tears and smeared mascara go wide at the sheer girth stretching her open. Nicole’s soaked; the strap-on glides in smooth, burying to the hilt in one slow, relentless push. A low, satisfied moan rumbles from Nicole’s chest.

“Good girl,” she purrs, voice honey over gravel. “Took it all. You’re a horny little slut, aren’t you?”

No answer needed. Nicole draws back, the slick drag loud in the quiet lobby, then slams forward. Brittney’s palms slap the desk, nails scrabbling for purchase. Each thrust punches a muffled whimper from her throat; she buries her face in the crook of her elbow to keep from screaming. The desk creaks, papers fluttering to the floor like confetti.

Nicole finds a brutal rhythm hips rolling, the harness slapping against her own clit with every stroke. Brittney’s moans climb, high and ****, muffled by the wood. She lifts her head just enough to gasp, “I—I like it when you or Ricky call me a slut. That’s what I am now. That’s what you made me. I *love* it.”

Nicole grins, feral, and drives deeper. She pauses to crack a palm across Brittney’s ass the sharp smack echoing, leaving a blooming red handprint. Then she shoves two fingers, then three, into the girl’s tight asshole, scissoring roughly. Brittney’s back bows, a silent scream stretching her mouth wide.

Nicole yanks the strap-on free with a wet *pop*, strings of arousal stretching between them, and lines up with Brittney’s puckered hole. One merciless push and she’s in Brittney’s body locks rigid, a single tear slipping down her cheek, but no sound escapes. Nicole snarls against her ear, hot breath tickling the shell, “You like that, dumb slut? That fat cock in your ass? Better get used to it. Tonight they’ll do worse. You won’t walk straight for days. Some girls bail after too humiliated to take the gig.”

The threat hits like gasoline on a fire. Brittney’s cunt clenches, fresh slick dripping down her thighs. Two, three more savage thrusts and she shatters a raw, wrenching orgasm that leaves her limp, draped over the desk like a broken doll. Nicole wraps an arm around her waist, holding her up as the aftershocks ripple through.

The lobby phone trills, shrill and insistent. Nicole doesn’t stop; she just reaches over Brittney’s trembling back and snatches the receiver, hips still lazily pumping.