Desire is a Weapon

London River straps you down, wrists locked, cock twitching, body hers to break. She moves like a slow fuse lit at both ends. One lash from the crop across your chest and you flinch. Another lands lower and the sting sinks straight to your balls. She pauses, metal cuffs clicking, then pushes a thick dildo against your tongue and tells you to keep it wet. Every time you thrust your hips she pulls away, edging you until a bead of pre-cum slides down your shaft. She laughs once, low, and sinks onto you without warning. Heat swallows you whole. She rides hard, slaps your chest raw, then stops just before you come, walls pulsing around you like a fist. Sweat drips off her breasts onto your stomach. When she finally lets you finish, she grinds down, takes every pulse inside, then lifts off so the mess leaks out slow across the dungeon floor. 2021. Eight minutes of pure threat, no mercy left in the room.