In a twisted twist on the Last Supper, slaves kneel before their masters, mouths wide open, ready to receive the sacrament of cock. The room, a maze of bodies, echoes with the symphony of wet gagging and stifled moans. Tits pressed against the cold floor, they take it, ass to mouth, one after the other, their bodies a canvas of red welts and dripping juices. The air thick with the scent of sex and the crack of leather against flesh, the slaves succumb to their basest desires, surrendering to the kinky, bizarre orgy atop the upper floor.