The young, muscular dancer Matie is roped standing, arms overhead, facing a wall, his firm ass framed by white elastic. Jared leaves just enough slack so his boy can twist and flex. Matie closes his eyes tight as Jared strokes his torso, enjoying the body he is about to torture. He fingers the boy’s asshole and smacks his butt-cheeks with an open hand. Then he gets to the real torture: lashing Matie with the single-tail whip, starting at his shoulders and moving down his back to his ass, laying stripe after wicked stripe on top of earlier scars. The new wounds are bright-red against dark-red, older welts. The boy’s cries of pain are like music as he’s whipped rapid-fire, dozens of times.
