“My serve.”I kept letting it build. I was sending shots at Randy that were moving close to a hundred miles an hour. And he was returning them. We ...top trying to keep track of score. Every rally was a match. We were both attacking the ball and while Randy was playing racquetball, I was trying to kill the ball. Randy ceased to exist. It was just me and where the ball would be. And how hard I could hit it.We rallied for an hour and were both dripping with sweat when our hour was up and there was. Her vibrator supplying an equal amount of motivation relative to her anger, she builds up her pace and rhythm, working her way to having her pelvis eventually spank his ass. She is bound and determined not to stop until she makes him cum from this.For his part, John tries and fails in smaller doses to get out of this. The humiliation does not give him the strength to overcome the straightjacket of Mistress Ariel’s grip on him. He settles for a small victory by working the shit-flavored butt. You will cry, you will beg. Fear will flow, for as long as I need it to." Any questions?" No ma'am" with a quiver"Do you understand?" Yes ma'am"She had her ravenous hair tied back tightly. The White blouse with the sleeves rolled up. Her right hand; a cropped black leather glove. Her left hand; an elbow length black latex glove with a black fingerless leather glove overtop. A lamb thrown to the slaughter.The leather pants told a story.A second skin.The knee high combat boots were polished. Rick was a fuck up, but she still loved him. Deeply. She didn't want to see him get hurt. And she certainly couldn't afford to have him lose his job. Jan couldn't work. Even if she could she certainly couldn't get a job to support their lifestyle. "Why don't you stay and play with us?" said Cyrus. "It'll be best for everyone."Jan knew what she had to do. She turned and came back into the suite. "Good girl," said Cyrus with a wicked smile. He stood up and approached Jan from behind. He eyed her.