Beauty and Dogboy

She comes at him hard. Ice in her veins and a leash in her fist. The dogboy’s already stripped and shaking, but she doesn’t give a damn. She buckles thick leather around his throat, yanks until his knees buckle, then straps his balls tight in steel. Every jerk on the leash snaps the ring tighter. He winces, but she keeps him crawling, face down, ass up, until the floor burns his knees. When he tries to beg, she smacks his nuts with the crop, sharp and fast. He yelps, voice breaking. She doesn’t slow down. She tightens the ropes across his chest, pins his arms behind him, forces his legs wider. His cock twitches, but every pulse tugs the ring, and the ring yanks the chain in her hand. She smiles without warmth and drags him forward again, each step a fresh jolt between his legs. He whimpers, panting, and she keeps walking like she owns the sound.