Femboy Bonnie Blue Rigs Jak White: Rough Pegging Humiliation & Gay Sex

The leather of Bonnie's harness creaked as she adjusted it, the black strap-on gleaming under the harsh light. Jak knelt before her, his face a mix of apprehension and something else… a flicker of anticipation. He’d never done this before, never considered it. But Bonnie… Bonnie had a way of making him want things he never knew he craved.

“Ready, baby?” Bonnie’s voice was low, husky. She ran a finger down his cheek, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Jak swallowed hard, nodding. His hands gripped the carpet, his knuckles white.

“I’m gonna be rough, okay? I want you to beg.” She leaned in close, her breath warm against his ear. “Beg, my little pet.”

He shivered. The humiliation was already building, a delicious burn spreading through his veins. He hated it. He loved it. God, he wanted it. This femboy pegging session was pushing him to his limits.

The first thrust was a shock. He cried out, a strangled sound that Bonnie seemed to savor. She gripped his hips, holding him in place as she drove deeper. He could feel the pressure, the stretching… the overwhelming sensation of being taken, of being completely at her mercy.

"That's it, take it!" Bonnie ground down harder, her eyes blazing. His vision swam, the room tilting around him. He could barely breathe. This wasn't just sex; it was a power play, a dance of dominance and submission that he was both terrified and thrilled by.

He braced his hands against the floor, trying to find some purchase, some stability in the chaos. The leather creaked with each thrust, a rhythmic counterpoint to his ragged breathing. He felt exposed, vulnerable, the epitome of a gay man being thoroughly used.

"Please…" he gasped, the word a broken whisper. "Please, Bonnie…"

She stopped abruptly, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. "Please what, Jak? What do you want?" She paused, letting the tension hang in the air. "Do you want me to stop?" Her words were dripping with teasing. "Or do you want more?"

He looked up at her, his eyes pleading, a single tear tracing a path down his cheek. He knew he should say stop. He knew he should reclaim some semblance of control. But he couldn't. He was addicted to the feeling, to the humiliation, to the intoxicating power that Bonnie wielded over him. He shook his head weakly.

"More…" he whispered. "Please, more." Bonnie smirked, a predatory glint in her eye. And then she plunged forward again, driving him deeper, pushing him further, until he was nothing but a whimpering, pleading mess at her feet, completely and utterly hers.