Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
I checked my watch. Exactly 8:00 PM. No need for rushing. That is the first rule of control. A Domme never rushes. The air was cool. I like it that way; it makes the submissive shiver a little, even without fear. He was already kneeling on the thick, dark rug, waiting. He never looked up until I told him to.
Today, he was wearing the pale pink satin nightie I had selected, the cheap lace scratching his skin. His face was painted heavy, the makeup slightly smudged around the eyes from nervous anticipation. He was not a man now; he was my project. He was my sissy bitch.
The Rules of Control
“You are still, mon petit,” I said, my voice low. It was a statement, not a question. Compliance was mandatory. “Is this position comfortable for you?” He shook his head quickly, a small, jerky movement. “You whisper,” I corrected. “Use your little voice. Say ‘No, Mistress.’”
“N-no, Mistress,” he stammered. The sound was thin and weak, and I smiled. It was the sound of true surrender, and it was the music I craved. I walked a slow circle around him. The suspense was exquisite, stretching like taffy, elastic and thin. He knew something was coming, but he did not know what. The power of uncertainty is the real tool I wield.
I lifted the toe of my polished leather boot, catching the silk of the nightie, and slowly pushed it higher up his thigh. His breath hitched, a sharp, audible gasp that pleased me immensely. “You look very pretty tonight,” I murmured. I let the compliment hang there, sharp and confusing. Was I being kind? Was I lying? He couldn’t tell.
I leaned down, close enough for the rich scent of my perfume and the clean smell of my leather to fill his senses. I spoke into his ear, my voice dropping until it was just a breath delivered in basic, clear English. “You are not useful to me if you are comfortable, slave. Tonight, we change one thing. Tonight, you learn that all your pain belongs to me from the moment you feel it.”
I stood straight again and pulled a long, thin riding crop from the wall hook. The leather was stiff and slick. I watched his eyes track the movement, widening just slightly when he saw the tool. Then, without warning, I brought the thin switch down with a sharp thwack across the flat of his thigh.
He cried out immediately and slumped forward. “No, no, no,” I chastised, tapping the handle gently on his shoulder. “Stay up. You stay up, sissy bitch. The performance has only just started.”
Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
https://phonesexcandy.com/stella/
https://sinfullysexyphonesex.com/stella/
https://tlcphonesex.com/stella/