Description
What, where did you think he got all of the money for his business ventures? It certainly isn't from said ventures. No, Wally had come to rely on funds from some less than reputable individuals to make his various terrible ideas a reality...which was a problem, considering they weren't making any money.
And so here he found himself: in the basement of the notorious mob boss Crimson, wrapped tight in a latex bodysuit and blindfolded, a vibe on his balls and a massive hook lodged firmly in his fat keister. Connected to the collar around his neck, each jerk and wiggle jolted the cold metal upwards into his quivering hole. It was torturously tempting, but it wouldn't be long before a few of Crimson's best men came to relieve the accessory of its duties...
(This is all consensual -- Wally just agreed to some freaky ass roleplay to get off the hook...rather ironic, don't you think?)
Commissioned from LeponsArt sometime last year.
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