My pet has been aching for months for the opportunity to release himself in my presence. A rare and special gift one should never take for granted. But I assure you, his "aching" will seem insignificant compared to the excruciating t*rment I will put him through for this divine privilege. Nothing comes freely from me. Everything must be earned through s*ffering, frustration, and complete surrender to my cr*elty.

Lying helplessly on my b*ndage table, he awaits my command. I order him to stroke his tiny, useless dicklet. He obeys immediately, that desperate hand working furiously, chasing the pleasure he has been denied for so long. But each time he starts to find his rhythm, each time pleasure begins to build in his pathetic c*ck, I swat it with my riding crop. Sharp, stinging, precise. His hand freezes, his face contorts, and I laugh at his s*ffering. Faster, I command. Stroke faster. And he does, because he is my obedient sl*t, only to have me strike his stiffening c*ck again. And again. And again.

I am merciless. I am amused. I am Ember Snow, and his desperation is my entertainment.

Eventually, I decide to "help" him along. I wrap my hand around his c*ck, my grip firm and deliberate, stroking him with the expertise he lacks. His eyes roll back, his hips buck, and just as he approaches the edge, I release him and bring my crop down across his shaft once more. The sound he makes is delicious. Confusion, agony, desperate need. I repeat this t*rment, building him up, bringing him to the precipice, then shattering his pleasure with another cruel swat. His c*ck is swollen, purple, leaking, utterly at my mercy.

I order him not to c*m. I make it clear that his release belongs to me, that I have not granted permission, that his body is mine to control. But he is weak. He is desperate. His months of denial have destroyed his discipline. He tries to hold back, tries to obey, but my t*rment has pushed him past all breaking points. He explodes into his own hand, thick ropes of c*m spilling across his fingers, his face a mask of shame and relief and terror.

I pretend to be furious. My voice drops, my eyes narrow, I berate him for his disobedience, for his pathetic lack of control, for cumming without my express command. He trembles beneath my wrath, apologizing, begging, utterly devastated. But inside, I am delighted. Amused. His failure is precisely what I orchestrated, and now I have the perfect excuse to degrade him further.

I order him to eat every drop. Every single drop of his own filth. He hesitates, disgust warring with obedience, and I remind him who owns him. His hand rises to his mouth. His tongue l*cks the mess from his fingers. He swallows his own c*m, humiliated and broken, while I watch with genuine satisfaction. He is my b*tch. My c*m-eating sl*t. My perfectly ruined toy.

Could you resist cumming if I had your c*ck at my mercy, or would you end up l*cking your own mess from your fingers too?

*rniedrigung Frauen Domination B*sm Goddess Ember Snow's Cruel *dging T*rment (4K Version): Crop-Swatting His C*ck Until He Explodes mit C4s.com

rniedrigung Frauen Domination Bsm Goddess Ember Snow's Cruel dging Trment (4K Version): Crop-Swatting His C*ck Until He Explodes mit C4s.com