Our slave is in the cold dungeon cell awaiting his beating from three terrifying Ladies. his flesh is Our canvas and We start to strip him of skin. Dressed in a leather catsuit, latex catsuit and pvc, We tower over Our shaking prey in suitably wipe clean outfits should bits off him spray onto Us. Miss Inka flays him with a leather viper whip and We take turn laying lashes across his back. Each of Us using the leather whips to create Our artwork on his body. his cries turn to screams, which in turn turns to begging. he pleads for mercy, which in Our world means more. Once finished We pick up... Show more