Heena selected the final piece for Damien's "education"—a thick, ridged toy designed for prolonged torment. With clinical precision, she coated it generously in the jasmine oil and positioned it at his entrance. Damien's green eyes widened in realization, his body tensing despite exhaustion.
"You called me a prostitute," Heena said softly, pushing it in slowly, inch by torturous inch. "Let's see how you like being used like one."
Damien's back arched off the inversion table, muffled sounds escaping around the gag the shadow guards had replaced. The toy filled him completely, ridges catching on every sensitive spot as Heena worked it deeper, twisting slightly for maximum effect. His muscles clenched desperately around the intrusion, hips jerking involuntarily.
