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The room is dimly lit, the kind of darkness that hides more than it reveals. The air is thick with the scent of leather and sweat, a heady mix that makes my skin prickle with anticipation. I’m kneeling on a cold, hard floor, my wrists bound tightly behind my back. The leather cuffs bite into my flesh, but the pain is nothing compared to what I know is coming.
“Look at me,” a voice commands, sharp and authoritative. I obey without thinking, lifting my gaze to meet hers. She stands above me, tall and imposing in her black leather corset and thigh-high boots. Her hair is pulled back into a tight bun, not a strand out of place. Her eyes are cold, calculating, and they bore into mine with a predatory intensity.
“Do you remember what we discussed?” she asks, her tone deceptively casual. “About your limits? About what you can handle?”
I nod, swallowing hard. “Yes, Mistress.”
She smiles, a thin, cruel curve of her lips. “Good. Because tonight, we’re going to push those limits.”
Before I can respond, she reaches down and grabs a handful of my hair, yanking my head back so that I’m forced to look up at her. The pain is sudden and intense, but I don’t dare cry out. Instead, I grit my teeth and wait for her next move.
“You’ve been a very naughty boy, haven’t you?” she purrs, her fingers tightening in my hair. “Disobeying me, trying to edge without permission. You need to be punished.”
I feel a surge of fear mixed with something else—something darker, more primal. My cock twitches in response, betraying my arousal even as my mind screams at me to stop this madness. But I can’t. Not now. Not with her standing over me like this, her body tense with barely contained power.
“Please, Mistress,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “I’ll be good. I promise.”
She laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down my spine. “Oh, I know you will. But first, you need to learn your lesson.”
With that, she releases my hair and steps back, her movements fluid and graceful. I watch her warily, my heart pounding in my chest. What is she planning? What kind of punishment does she have in mind?
She reaches behind her and pulls out a long, thin whip. The leather glints ominously in the dim light, and my breath catches in my throat. I’ve seen her use that whip before, and I know how much damage it can do. But this time, she’s not aiming for my back. No, this time, she’s got something else in mind.
“Stand up,” she orders, her voice leaving no room for argument.
I struggle to my feet, my bound wrists making the task difficult. When I’m finally upright, she steps closer, her eyes never leaving mine. She reaches out and cups my balls in her hand, her grip firm but not painful. Yet.
“These are going to be the focus of our little session tonight,” she says, her tone almost conversational. “Your balls. Your precious, delicate balls.”
I swallow hard, my mouth dry. “Mistress, please—”
“Quiet,” she snaps, cutting me off. “You don’t get to speak unless I tell you to. Understood?”
I nod quickly, too afraid to say anything else. She smirks and gives my balls a gentle squeeze, just enough to make me wince.
“Good boy,” she murmurs. “Now, let’s see how tough you really are.”
Before I can react, she raises the whip and brings it down hard against my exposed balls. The impact is shocking, a searing burst of pain that radiates through my entire body. I gasp, my knees buckling as I fight to stay upright. But she doesn’t give me a chance to recover. Instead, she strikes again, and again, each hit landing with brutal precision.
The pain is excruciating, a constant, throbbing ache that makes it hard to think, hard to breathe. But despite the agony, my cock remains stubbornly hard, betraying my arousal even as my mind screams at me to stop this madness. I want to beg her to stop, to plead with her to let me cum, but I know better. I know that she won’t listen. Not until she’s done with me.
After what feels like an eternity, she finally stops, stepping back to assess her handiwork. I’m panting heavily, my body slick with sweat, my balls aching from the relentless assault. But she’s not finished yet. Oh no, this is only the beginning.
“On your knees,” she commands, her voice cold and unyielding.
I drop to the floor, my legs trembling beneath me. She steps closer, her boot nudging my chin upward so that I’m forced to look at her. Her eyes are dark, filled with a dangerous kind of pleasure.
“You’re doing well,” she says, her tone surprisingly gentle. “But we’re not done yet.”
With that, she reaches down and grabs my cock, her grip tight and unrelenting. I gasp, my body tensing in anticipation of what’s to come. But instead of stroking me or teasing me, she simply holds me there, her fingers digging into my flesh.
“You want to cum, don’t you?” she asks, her voice dripping with malice.
I nod, unable to form words. The pressure in my balls is building, a tight, unbearable tension that demands release. But I know better than to hope for mercy. Not from her.
“Too bad,” she says with a wicked smile. “Because you’re not going to.”
With that, she releases my cock and steps back, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. I stare up at her, my heart pounding in my chest, my body begging for release. But I know that it’s hopeless. She’s not going to let me cum. Not tonight.
“Stay here,” she commands, turning away from me. “I’ll be back soon. And when I return, we’ll continue your training.”
As she walks away, I’m left alone in the dim room, my body trembling with a mixture of pain and frustration. My balls throb with every beat of my heart, the ache intensifying with each passing second. I know that she’s not done with me yet, that she has more torment in store. But for now, all I can do is wait, my mind reeling from the harsh reality of my situation.
And then she returns, her presence filling the room like a storm. She steps closer, her eyes locking onto mine with a predatory gleam.
“Ready for round two?” she asks, her voice dripping with anticipation.
I nod, my body trembling with fear and longing. But before I can brace myself, she speaks again, her tone suddenly icy.
She steps closer, her presence commanding and unwavering. Her fingers trace a delicate path down my chest, sending shivers through my body. "You're going to learn patience tonight," she whispers, her voice a sultry promise of more torment to come. Without warning, she grabs my cock, her grip firm and deliberate, and begins to tie it to the ceiling with a length of thick, rough rope. Each pull of the knot sends a jolt of anticipation through me, my cock straining against the bindings as it is lifted off the ground.
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