His name was Arthur. He thought he was destined for greatness. Destiny had a completely different plan for him. In fact, destiny hadn’t any plans for Arthur and so, as an afterthought, destiny put Arthur in the path of a woman of particular talents.
Her name was Bria. Bria didn’t particularly like him, but he was useful.
On this particular afternoon, Bria had Arthur strapped to a whipping cross. His ass was striped cherry red from her cat-o’-nine-tails. The rest of him was pale and a sheen of nervous sweat covered his pasty skin.
“What do you say to me?” she growled in his ear as she pulled his head back.
Bria insisted that Arthur keep his hair long and in a braid. She used it as a handle to move his head around as she pleased.
Arthur whimpered. His ass stung, and his c**k throbbed.
