In the dimly lit dungeon, Ashton is tied to a St. Andrew's cross, his body on display for his captor's twisted pleasure. His tight ass aches from the brutal pounding it received earlier, and he whimpers with each breath.
The door creaks open, and a figure clad in leather emerges - it's Jack, Ashton's tormentor. Jack's cock is already hard, and he can't wait to continue his sadistic fuck fest. Without saying a word, he grabs a whip from a nearby table and cracks it menacingly.
"Please, Jack, don't..." Ashton's voice is broken and pleading, but it only serves to fuel Jack's rage.
"Shut up, you little bitch." Jack's hand slaps across Ashton's mouth, silencing him as his eyes narrow with anger.
