A Firm Hand

Lyra Law limps through the door and feels every muscle screaming. Fuck it, she calls the nearest place, books the slot, and gets there fast. Mona Wales shakes her hand with a grip that already promises heat. Clothes off, face down. Mona’s slick palms grind into the knots until Lyra groans about her ass, her inner thighs. Mona digs in harder, digs deeper. Lyra flips, tits up, legs spread; Mona reads the signal and kills the show. “If that’s the service you want, it costs,” she snaps. Lyra starts bargaining with a grin; Mona slaps her palm over the girl’s mouth, hard. Fingers slip between soaked folds. Mona leans down, lips on Lyra’s ear. “No more bratty noise,” she hisses. “You shut up and come when I say. Understand?” Lyra nods fast, eyes wild, every pulse under Mona’s thumb beating surrender.