My new pet has a desperate praise kink, a weakness I intend to exploit until he breaks. The dungeon air tastes of old sweat, sex and leather, grounding us in this sanctuary of power. My little worm kneels on the cold concrete, his gaze fixed on my black leather boots. I run a hand through my brown hair and press the heel of my boot into his chest, pinning him to the floor. "Today we see if you're worth the space you occupy. Lick the salt from my boots, worm. Do it now, and do it well," I command. He obeys instantly, his tongue darting out to lap at the leather with frantic devotion. I feel the tremble in his shoulders as he works to please me. "Good boy," I whisper, feeding his praise kink with a single, honeyed phrase that makes him whimper with need.
As a Dominatrix, I demand absolute perfection. I lead him to the rack, ordering him to maintain a rigid plank while I tease his engorged cock with a riding crop. My curvy frame looms over him, my big breasts swaying as I move to inspect his form. Every time his hips sag, I snap the crop across his thighs, leaving stinging red welts on his pale skin. "Stay still, you pathetic Troglodyte! If you drop, I'll double the lashes," I hiss. "Yes, Ma'am! Please, Ma'am! I'll be good!" he gasps, sweat beading on his forehead. He manages to hold the position for five more grueling minutes. I lean down and kiss his temple softly. "Such a strong little slave," I murmur, watching the light, a mix of agony and euphoria, flare in his eyes as I manipulate his praise kink.The tension in the room thickens. He looks up at me, his eyes pleading, his breath coming in ragged hitches. He wants the heat of my pussy, the release only I can grant. I let him taste me, sliding my damp, swollen folds against his lips, his tongue meeting my wetness. But the moment he tries to push his head forward to enter, I shove him back onto the floor. “You think you’ve earned this? You think my pussy is a reward for basic obedience?” I ask, my voice crisp. “Please, let me in, I need you,” he begs. “No! You are a tool for my pleasure, not the other way around.”
I stand over him, letting him see what he wants, but can’t have. I command him to stroke himself. “Don’t you dare cum until I tell you,” I warned. His hand moving in a blurred rhythm of desperation, the sound of skin on skin as he lubricates himself with pre-cum. The humiliation of being denied my body only fuels his arousal. As he nears the edge, I bend down and lick a line up his cheek. “Cum for me, worm. Give it to me,” I whispered the order. “I’m cumming, Ma’am!” he screams, his cock erupting in dribbles of thick, white cum that drip messily down his cock and onto the nest of hair at his base. I watch the viscous liquid slide over his skin before I give the final command. “Clean it up. Every single drop.” He uses his fingers, tasting his own failure. “Good boy.”
FemDom With Samarra