Exposure

Lulu sits rigid in the chair, wires biting into her wrists. The machine hums to life and suddenly Gianna Dior is on her, tongue wet and urgent against Lulu’s bush. Lulu gasps, frozen, until the shock melts into raw need. She grabs Gianna’s hips and drags her closer, faces locked in a grinding 69 that leaves them both slick and shaking. Manuel Ferrara steps in, cock heavy and waiting, and Lulu’s mouth stretches wide around him, the taste of skin and sweat filling her. Gianna’s fingers dig into Lulu’s thighs, pulling her deeper, harder, every flick of her tongue pushing her further from the cage of fear. Manuel’s hand knots in Lulu’s hair, controlling the rhythm, fucking her throat while Gianna rides her face. The fear is still there, raw and electric, but the hunger is louder now, louder than the hum of the machine, louder than the thought of what waits outside once the wires come off.