Trenton, Van, Brock and Damien

Trenton Ducati grips the leather strap, his tattooed arms flexing as he drives the whip down Brock Avery’s bare back, each crack a sharp sting against the dark hair and corded muscles. Van Darkholme kneels behind him, his bearded jaw tight as he works the asshole with rough, deliberate fingers, the shaved head of Damien Moreau pressed into the restraints above, his hole already stretched wide. The wooden cuffs bite into Brock’s wrists, the metal shackles around his ankles leaving no room to fight as Trenton’s whip traces the same path again and again.