Look at this hot British chav. Take in his frame. Take in the smirk across his face, like he is giving you a satisfied stare as he looms over you. He considers you his toy. His property. His to abuse as he sees fit. He is your master, and you are his slave.
Bound at the arms and the legs and across your whole body, your arms are secured tightly against your sides, and your legs tightly together. You are laying face up on the bed, your eyes are filled with fear at what your kidnapper might do with you, but you imagine that it won't be pleasant. You feel your weak, ample frame begin to quiver.
He towers over you, straddling you at the waist, wearing his white boxer briefs with a red elastic ring around the top. His favourite pair. They hug him tightly, showing off his round, firm buns. He glares down at you with disgust, sitting up with a straight back. His eyes creep slowly, up and down, up and down, over your face, but focusing mostly upon your eyes, like he is staring right into your soul.
Bound at the arms and the legs and across your whole body, your arms are secured tightly against your sides, and your legs tightly together. You are laying face up on the bed, your eyes are filled with fear at what your kidnapper might do with you, but you imagine that it won't be pleasant. You feel your weak, ample frame begin to quiver.
He towers over you, straddling you at the waist, wearing his white boxer briefs with a red elastic ring around the top. His favourite pair. They hug him tightly, showing off his round, firm buns. He glares down at you with disgust, sitting up with a straight back. His eyes creep slowly, up and down, up and down, over your face, but focusing mostly upon your eyes, like he is staring right into your soul.