100% Torment: Master Johnny Ford Destroys Josh Reaper

Johnny Ford’s back in the dungeon, flexing his title as BDSM’s sadist maestro—and Josh Reaper’s about to become his latest symphony of screams. This ain’t playtime. This is pain evangelism, served raw and ruthless.

Johnny struts in, jeans vacuum-sealed to his thighs, looking like a leather-clad hurricane. Josh? Blindfolded, strapped to a beam like a sacrificial lamb, leather mask choking his senses. Johnny doesn’t bother with hello—he slices Josh’s shirt off with shears, smacks his chest raw, then yanks his pants down to play torture Twister with his balls.

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Phase two: Johnny peels back just enough mask to shove his cock down Josh’s throat—”Suck, don’t breathe.” Josh gags, but Johnny’s already buckling him into a strappado of leather, cock and balls cinched tight as a tourniquet. Clothespins? More like pain confetti—snapped onto nipples, thighs, wherever Johnny damn well pleases. Josh’s moans twist into a symphony of paingasm.

Then comes the main event. Johnny edges him like a diesel engine—sucking, stroking, denying release until Josh’s dick’s a throbbing meat siren. Cue the sounding rod. Johnny rams steel into Josh’s piss slit like he’s mining for uranium, then straps diodes to his balls and slams a live-wire butt plug up his ass. Electricity crackles—Josh’s body arcs like a struck guitar string, howling into the void.

But Johnny’s not done. He breeds Josh bareback, pistoning into his wrecked hole like a jackhammer on meth. When he finally cums, it’s a cement truck unload—then he lets Josh blow, milking him dry with a smirk.

This isn’t BDSM—it’s a masterclass in malice. Johnny Ford doesn’t break slaves… he reforges them. Rated ‘R’ for ruined.

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