The locker room had transformed into a humid, c*m-scented hell of raw dominance. The concrete floor was slick with puddles of squirt and thick ropes of c*m. The air felt heavy, almost sticky, saturated with the smell of sweat, leather, musk, and defeated p***y.
Roxy Kane was no longer pretending to be tough.
She lay sprawled across the wide metal bench on her back, legs forced wide apart and held open by Jax and Riley’s strong hands. Her firm ass and thighs glowed an angry, throbbing red from countless spankings. Both her holes, p***y and ass gaped openly, red and swollen, leaking a steady mix of her own juices and the winners’ spit. Her platinum-blonde hair was matted to her forehead with sweat, and her once-sharp blue eyes were now glassy and unfocused. Her own futa c**k, still rock-ha
