Mistress Aiden Pulls the Zipper

Mistress Aiden smiles, the wicked kind that promises nothing good for Jimmy. She starts with a flogger, laying stripes across his back in steady, mean rhythms. The crop comes next, sharp and fast, biting where the leather tails already reddened his skin. His nipples catch her attention. She clamps both, twists until his breath catches, then tugs again for good measure. When she moves south, the parachute is first, the tight straps squeezing his balls until the weight of the five-pound barbell drags them down, every shift a fresh ache. She’s not finished. The violet wand crackles to life, sending sparks into his groin while that weight still hangs. Jimmy’s hips jerk. She only smiles wider. Next comes the steel rod. She slides it into his cock, slow and deliberate, until every inch is taken. His moans turn ragged. Finally, she strings rope from armpit to crotch, pinning clothespin after clothespin to tender skin, then rips the whole line free in one vicious yank. The room fills with his cries, and she looks like she could do it again just for fun.