Sonya has Alex and Mike stripped to briefs, blindfolded, and spread-eagle on her bed. Their muscles flex uselessly against jute ropes while she straddles in a bikini between them like a queen on her throne. A wicked trivia wheel spins: every wrong answer buys thirty seconds of her wicked fingernails drifting over ribs, armpits, hip-bones, and the thin skin above the waistband. She starts gentle, almost loving, letting them believe they can outsmart her. The moment they miss a question, the wicked smile appears on her face. Sonya pounces, spider-fast, digging her fingers deep inside Mikes ribs. Seems like he is extremely ticklish, good to know. Laughter ricochets off the walls as she counts down the seconds, pausing just long enough for them to gulp air before the next round. Final score decides the grand prize: the loser is drizzled with warm oil until his torso gleams, then tormented for five uninterrupted minutes with claws, brushes, and the relentless vibration of a wartenberg wheel. The winner stays tied, made to listen to every shriek, every breathless “please, Sonya!” knowing his turn could come at any whim. If the points tie, both bodies become her playground until sunrise. HD close-ups films every quiver, every drop of oil sliding. No safe-word, no mercy, just the sweet sound of masculine control dissolving under a woman who loves to watch men laugh until they’re too weak to speak. Ready to pick your victim?
