Gia DiMarco's Divine Exercise Torment

Reed Jameson wanted real discipline, the kind that bites deep. He got more than he bargained for when leather-clad Gia DiMarco walked in. She didn’t ask questions. She cracked the whip and the first lash landed before Reed could blink. Squats turned savage. Each rep earned a lash across his back or a sharp slap across his ass. Push-ups fared no better—Gia’s boots pinned his shoulders while she rained blows down with the crop. She climbed on him to up the ante, dropping all her weight on his shoulders while a heavy kettlebell swung between his legs, tied tight around cock and balls. Reed groaned through the burn, but the moment his pace faltered Gia yanked the rope hard. Pain lanced through his groin and forced every muscle to obey. He tried to steal a breather. Big mistake. Gia dragged him by the hair to the locker-room urinal, shoved his face into the cold porcelain, and drove her strap-on straight into him. Each thrust echoed off the tiles, his grunts muffled by the bowl. She didn’t let up until his knees buckled. Finished with punishment, she took her pleasure. She rode his face until she came, thighs quivering, then sank onto his cock and used him like a toy. When she was done she stood over his wrecked body and let go, drenching him in a hot, humiliating squirt that left him gasping on the wet floor.