What a Day to Play with his Balls

Violet has her slave secured by the wrists to the suspension rack, yellow hood tight over his head as she circles him in her shiny black latex top and tight pants. She starts with sharp kicks from her stilettos, the pointed toes snapping into his hanging balls while he twitches and groans. She slaps them hard in a rapid count, twelve loud cracks that leave him quivering on his knees. Her nails rake across his belly before she drops low and drives seven or eight tight punches straight into the same tender spot. She kicks the heels off and, from behind, slams her ass and the soles of her feet into his nuts again and again. Then she drops flat on the rug, lifts her legs, and wraps them around his waist, using the leverage to kick, punch, and kick once more before sitting up to deliver wet slaps that echo through the room.

She pulls him forward by the chin, calls him a silly boy, slaps his face, then stands and drives her knee into his balls over and over while he stays rock hard. Her flexibility shows as she plants one foot across his hooded face, drags it down his body, then stuffs her toes into his mouth before slapping him again. More brutal kneeing follows. She steps behind him, grinds her latex-covered ass against him, and teases that she should take him anally too. Her fingers tickle then punch and slap his balls. Once her feet are slick with his sweat she unhooks his wrists, orders him to his knees, and makes him suck every toe clean. She has him roll onto his back and pushes her foot deep into his mouth again, telling him he is nicely warmed up for a full day of use and suffering.