I can edge him day in and day out for weeks straight — and I do — but what he hasn’t been getting from Me is the mindfuck that truly sends him
over the edge. Tonight I want My words and voice to fill his head while he watches My hands — on him, on the screen, putting on gloves — as I toy
with him.

I take My little plaything fully out of his metal cage to stroke him. He’s sensitive, full of cum and full of anticipation. He’s on the brink almost
immediately, and I don’t let up. I want it so engorged it hurts. I need him to suffer. So I put on the latex gloves to stroke him harder. I want him
slutty and grinding his plump prostate down onto My fist, but we hardly get there before he’s squealing, leaking — a ruin that certainly doesn’t drain
him. He doesn’t even come close to a real cum.

Does he have more for me? Let’s find out. I generously offer post-O and the opportunity to cum again for real … if he can. Instead, he BEGS to go
back into the cage, locked safely away from his cruel Mistress who’ll be expecting a better performance the next night, and the night after that,
and the night after that.