I admire the tight chastity device. I’ve kept this slave locked in for some time. I tease him a bit with my hands against the metal cage. I remind him that like most guys, he overvalues his little penis. He thinks with it and not his head. But now that he’s locked, he won’t need to think. I will think for us.
I tease him, and he gets more and more excited. I remind him that he only gets close contact with a woman like this when he is locked up. Women don’t trust males, who always lecherously glare at us. But we trust males more when locked up, nice, and controlled. You control the little dick, you control the whole male.
I start to get too turned on by the thought of all the power and control I have over this trusting male. I have to cane his thighs while his legs are spread open and he is tied to a chair. Watching him in pain is too erotic for me.
His needs won’t be satisfied, but I need to satisfy myself. I cane his things and then his ass while watching the sun set and the Manhattan skyline darken, relight with monolithic incandescence. We watch together. Cries of pain from him while we witness a moment of undeniable impermanence; a fleeting juncture of material and transient. Nature and industry temporally entwine. There is no view more beautiful than a sunset; language pales. There is no sound more beautiful than a cry of anguish from a male slave. I tighten my grip on its vulnerable scrotum. I am so very pleased with my work, so pleased to have witnessed the sky darken, then relight.
Resolution : 1920×1080
Duration : 00:15:16
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