VD - Fundraising Part 2

Like you had to ask.

Tears stream down the face of the bust, red demon strapped tightly to Morrigan’s wooden horse in her basement. Morrigan looms over her, dressed from head to toe in black, leather dominatrix regalia.

“What was that?” Morrigan snarls, cracking her whip on the demon’s tender buttocks ruthlessly. She screams and squirms. “The nerve! You think you can give to Trish’s campaign and to mine? Who do you think you are?”

“I’m sorry!” the demon wails. She’s some kind of rich demon heiress. You cringe each time Morrigan cracks the whip, but this demon is loving it.

Morrigan hits her again, then wraps the whip around her neck and squeezes. The demon moans and her body shakes, losing control of her bladder. Fluids pour down the horse as she shudders in delight. Morrigan unwraps the whip and coils it, then uses it to lift the demon’s chin. She looks into the demon’s face and spits on her, then gives her a slap.

“You thought I wouldn’t find out? You thought you could get some attention from me and Trish both? Riley, shut her up.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me,” Morrigan says.

“Oh. Right.” You trot over to the demon. The lacy undies that Morrigan made you wear can’t even pretend to contain you, so you’re already out. You feed your cock into the demon’s eager mouth.

Morrigan puts her hand on your butt and pushes hard, forcing your cock deeper into the demon’s throat. She gags, and Morrigan holds you there.

“That’s more like it. At least you’re good for something.” She tosses the whip aside. Your eyes and the demon’s eyes follow her as she walks seductively over to a stable and picks up a pen. She bends over. The demon’s eyes water. Your cock gets harder, **** her, but you’re a bit distracted.

“How much should I put you down for?” Morrigan muses. “Five million? Sound good?” She looks back over her shoulder at the demon, whose eyes bulge with outrage.

“Mmmm!” the demon protests with your cock lodged snugly in her throat.

“Ten million? You’re so generous,” Morrigan says, turning back to the scroll and writing. “Thank you. You can let her breathe, Riley.”

You pull out. The demon coughs and splutters.

“Ten million?” she says hoarsely.

“Something wrong?” Morrigan asks serenely, returning to the horse. Before the demon can answer, Morrigan pops a buckle open, releasing the straps. The demon crashes to the stone floor of the dungeon and Morrigan kicks her onto her back, slamming her bare foot down on the demon’s sopping, exposed pussy. She grinds her heel. “Something wrong?” she repeats.

“No! No! Yes! Yes!” the demon shrieks. “Fuck! Yes!”

“Dirty mouth,” Morrigan growls, leaning harder on her. “And she made a mess. Give her a shower, Riley.”