Boxing Gloves

"You may not be my Josh," Rebecca says. "You might not even be White Josh," she adds, pulling a pair of boxing gloves out of the closet. "But maybe," she says, lacing up her gloves, "you can be my black and blue Josh."

Rebecca adopts a fighting stance, and suddenly bursts into song, "I'm just a girl in gloves."

Suddenly a troupe of backup dominatrices, in leather and fishnets, emerge from the closet to join her.

"La-la-la-glovey glove," they sing.

"I can't be held responsible for my actions," Rebecca sings, as she starts punching you in the belly.

"She will injure you," the dominatrices reassure you, but you're more preoccupied with Rebecca's blows, knocking the wind out of you. You'd squirm but you're strapped too tightly to the bed, so all you can do is squeal as her attack and her song continue on relentlessly, her face showing delight in your pain. You can't make out the words anymore, as you just hang strapped to the bed, Rebecca's pain puppet, until the last word arrives.

"BLAM!"

As she says the word, she punches you in the {if@ Male==true}balls{else}pussy{endif}, showing no mercy. Your body shakes and you feel nauseous, tears in your eyes.

Rebecca just laughs, as do her backup dominatrices. "That was fun. What next?" Eagerly she looks in her closet at her various **** toys while you look on helplessly.