Those four words are all Monty ever longs to hear. All they've ever wanted was to belong, to be possessed (My), to please another (Perfect), to be easily held (Little), and beautiful (Doll). With Justin, they have it all.

At first, the numbers come easily but with each clap of the crop against their most sensitive part, the damp core of them, they start to mess up. They stutter, the numbers criss-cross, and their hips jerk as they cry when their Patron whips them harder just like he had promised.

It's starting to really hurt, to burn, their exposed cunt completely swollen and pink, the piercings glistening with slick.

Fuck. Monty thinks they might actually cum from this -