I lounge on the leather sofa, my latex-clad sisters flanking me as we circle our pathetic plaything like vultures. His shaved body trembles beneath us, marked with degrading scrawls—our canvas for cruelty. I press the glowing ember to his nipple, watching him writhe in exquisite agony, his muffled screams music to my ears. Another sister grinds her heel into his caged manhood, while I flick ash into his gaping mouth, extinguishing my cigarette on his throbbing tip. He exists only for our sadistic pleasure, broken and begging.
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