mini and shy love

Shy Love walks down the aisle like a storm rolling in. She takes Mini first by the throat, then by the balls, and the vows are already written across his skin. He’s naked, wrists cuffed above his head, cock half-hard against his stomach. She crops him where it hurts most—right on the tight skin of his sac—then drags the leather up and down his chest until the welts rise pink. Every time he flinches she smiles, slow and mean. The ring she gives him is steel and locks. The one she wears gleams on her finger while she forces him to his knees. He opens his mouth because she tells him to, and her cock slides over his tongue until his throat tightens. When she’s ready she turns him, spreads him, and fucks his ass in long, deliberate strokes that make his cuffed hands curl into fists. The camera stays close. You hear every wet sound, every slap of skin, every shaky breath he tries to swallow. She leans in, teeth at his ear, and reminds him this is what he asked for. He moans like he’s saying yes to the whole damn contract.