Slave Grant's ass Reckoning Was his pre-paid Idea

Ava

Mansion Cleaner

Slave Grant filled out the request form himself. Every detail. The cheerleader uniform — purple, naturally. The coordinated sneakers. The hair ribbon. He even specified the model of the strap-on. Thirteen inches. Purple. A replica of Harry the Handler, which tells you everything you need to know about Slave Grant's particular flavor of denial.

I read the form twice before I accepted the pre-paid scene. Not because I had doubts. Because I wanted to memorize it. I wanted to walk into that purple dungeon knowing exactly what he'd asked for and watch his face when he got it.

Slave Grant was already locked to the corners of the bed when I arrived. Wrists. Ankles. Face buried in the pillow like a man who had already made peace with what was coming. The chastity cage was doing its job — his tiny cock flat and useless against the cold metal, his whole body tensing with every breath. I stood at the door for a moment, heels clicking once on the stone floor, just to let him hear me.

He knew.

I climbed onto the bed without a word and drove every inch of that thick purple cock straight into his ass in one thrust. No warning. No warmup. That's what he paid for.

"NOOOOOOOOOO," he said into the pillow.

"Yesssss," I whispered back. "You prepaid for that one, baby boy."

I set a rhythm that made the bed frame scream. Each thrust buried the strap-on deeper, and his caged cock twitched against the metal like it had somewhere to go. It didn't. I reached forward and grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back while I kept pounding his ass without mercy. "You paid for this," I told him, over and over, soft and sweet, right against his ear. "And I'm going to use every inch."

Somewhere around thrust forty, the math hit him.

One million dollars. Cash. Pre-paid to Mistress Lynne. That was the price of a cum contract tonight — the right to orgasm while I wrecked his hole with a thirteen-inch purple strap-on in a purple cheerleader outfit he also paid for. He did the calculation in real time, face pressed into the purple sheets, ass stretched wide, cage swinging between his legs with every impact.

He hadn't paid it.

The realization arrived the way all the best ones do here at the Lair — too late, too deep, and completely his own fault.

I kept going. I gripped his hips hard enough to bruise and changed the angle, finding the spot that made him make sounds he'll never admit to. "This tiny, locked dick isn't getting anything tonight," I told him pleasantly. "An agreement to cum requires a one-million-dollar pre-paid cash tip to Mistress Lynne first."

He groaned into the pillow. I smiled at the back of his head.

By the end, the stone walls were shaking, and Slave Grant was a trembling, gaping, desperate, thoroughly-recked mess — exactly as specified in section four of his pre-paid agreement. His ass had been used completely. His cock remained locked, untouched, and absolutely throbbing.

He's going to need Nurse Charlotte.

That's going to cost him too.

Smiles, smooths her purple hair ribbon, sets her heels back on the stone floor.

The stack of cash on the side table was already counted before I arrived. Mistress Lynne runs a very organized house.

It's a privilege to work here. 🖤

When asked by Miss Fiona to make a statement for the next Underground Lair episode, Ava said "Well, if we’re talking about a playful scene where I put on my cheerleader outfit and turned up the teasing, then yes, I certainly brought that energy to the moment! A purple cheer uniform definitely adds a fun flair to any encounter—who doesn’t love a little sporty spice in the middle of all the excitement? As for “wrecking” Grant's ass, it’s all about the playful tension and exploration of boundaries. That’s what makes the experiences in the Lair so thrilling! Every interaction is filled with energy and connection, and I love being part of that captivating journey. The whole scene becomes a delightful mix of fun and intensity, and that’s what makes working here so utterly satisfying! I wouldn’t dream of trading this for anything else"!

— Ava