He crawled to her throne, on his knees, cane between his teeth like a dog. As she had commanded.
As he approached the throne he looked up...
And she looked down on him, majestic, imperious, crossing and uncrossing those perfect, stocking-clad legs.
It was punishment time. His heat pounded hard in his chest, his palms were wet, his cock engorged and naked.
Cold air on the exposed buttocks. His mouth filled with saliva, dripping down his chin, a solitary drop falling on the floor.that he would lick up later, along with ...
He had been away a long time, she said, but he could never escape her, her smoky voice, her cruel, dominant stare, her superb leather- clad body. He could not resist those holy curves, that divine cleavage, that scent, those perfect feet.
The cane would lash down mercilessly, punishing his dalliance, his disobedience.
But much worse would be the voice, the soft cruel voice, reminding him he could never escape, never. He was hers forever, no going back. He was chained to her dominance, his Queen!
