LILA 

His finger pushes in slowly, knuckle-deep, curling just enough to make my knees buckle if not for the damned bar holding me open.

“You feel that?” he whispers, lips brushing my ear. “That’s just one finger, little hornet.”

I whimper again, no words left, just broken sounds.

He pulls out and slides it back in, slow, torturous. Then he holds still.

“Tell me… you want two?”

I nod frantically, panting, desperate.

“I want to hear you say it,” he growls, his free hand gripping my jaw and tilting my face toward the mirror. “Say you want more. Say you want me to stretch this tight little cunt open.”

“I—I...