Bị kiềm chế với thắt lưng da và bị đánh đòn không thương tâm

At the whipping bench is your place. Restrained with leather belts and exposed to our sadistic pleasure. No pity for loser. My friend and I grip our beautiful floggers between our fingers, the cold leather waiting to open up on his flesh. No mercy!!! Suddenly the sound of whips pierces the silence. The first blow lashes his back damn harsh, and his flesh shudders under the impact. It's not enough!!! My friend hits him immediately after, with even more forz. The leather presses into his flesh, leaving a red trail, an indelible mark of our power. We increase the pace. Each blow pushes him deeper into pain, his breathing ragged, his body tensing in uncontrolled spasms. His flesh reddens, swells, and marks itself. But we don't stop. His moans become muffled screams, but we don't care. We want him ravaged, bent to our will.