Serf's BDSM Initiation

In the dimly lit dungeon, the serf's heart pounds as he's secured to the St. Andrew's Cross. The lady, cloaked in leather, circles him like a predator. She runs a gloved hand over his chest, whispering dark promises. He gasps as the first strike lands, fire spreading across his skin. She works him over, each blow drawing a symphony of moans and pleas, until he's a writhing, panting creature of pure sensation, desperate for the sweet relief of orgasm.

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