Fresh Meat Bondage Sex

Aiden Starr looks him over like fresh meat. He’s on his knees, already stripped and trembling, the kind of boy who thinks he can handle it until the cuffs bite. She starts with stress bondage, ropes cinched tight to pull his shoulders back and force his chest out. One leg raised, ankle lashed to his thigh, leaving him off-balance and exposed. Every shift in weight makes the rope dig deeper. She dresses him next. Pink satin panties stretched over his cock, a sheer babydoll that barely covers anything. He flushes when she laughs, tells him he looks pretty. The humiliation hits harder than the rope. She makes him repeat it. Says the words while she adjusts his hair, paints his mouth a glossy red. The mirror shows him what he is now. Not a man, not yet a woman. Something caught between, and hers. She pushes him down, legs spread, and plants herself over his face. Pussy worship. She grinds until he can’t breathe right, until his tongue aches and his chin’s slick. She tells him to thank her between licks. He does. Voice hoarse, eyes wet. When she’s done using his mouth, she takes his cock. Climbs on, rides him hard, one hand around his throat, the other pinning his wrists. Every thrust knocks the breath out of him. She doesn’t let him come until he begs. When he finally breaks, she keeps going, uses him until he’s shaking, ruined, grateful. Just how she likes them.