
Poolside Nail Torment
Madame V pulls the Two-Column Knot taut, and the rough hemp bit into Slave Vegas' wrists like fangs. Her nails, long and translucent as ice, matched the blue of the pool as they raked down his back—scoring, etching Her will into his skin. The Vegas sun burned white against his shoulders, sweat sizzling to vapor on contact. Slave Vegas begins to buck against the railing. With each long and slow scratch, Slave Vegas gives in to Madame V and submits his body and mind to Her will.
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