Welcome to his Dungeon. Let the Games Begin

She stands in the doorway, all curves cinched tight in a corset. The straps bite into her flesh, pushing her tits up like an offering. Her thighs already glisten. He waits inside, every inch of him black, strapped in leather, mask zipped shut. Muscle stacks on muscle. No words pass between them. She drops. Her knees hit cold floor. Her mouth opens wide. She takes that thick black cock like she needs it to breathe, lips stretched, spit running down her chin. He grabs her black hair, holds her still, pushes deeper until her throat works around him. She chokes, moans through her nose, keeps going. He pulls her up by the hair, spins her, bends her. The corset stays on, but nothing else. Her pussy is soaked, lips swollen, ready. He slams into her, one hard thrust, then another. She cries out, grips the table, takes every inch. The dungeon air is thick with the slap of skin, the wet sound of him pounding her open, her gasps turning to screams. He doesn’t slow. She doesn’t ask him to.