It's been 16 days of daily play and very hard denial for My boy, and all he can talk about is getting My thighs around his neck. The pressure is built up in his balls. His shaft is pressed tight to the metal of the cage. Everything from navel to knee is engorged and tender ... prostate ready to pop.

My scissors only add to the pressure, as his breathing quickens with panic, relaxes with arousal, and then, finally, ceases for a moment. Lungs burning, limbs heavy, head sweating. I bring him back and put him through it over and over again in this tired purple lowlight that adds to his...

It's been 16 days of daily play and very hard denial for My boy, and all he can talk about is getting My thighs around his neck. The pressure is built up in his balls. His shaft is pressed tight to the metal of the cage. Everything from navel to knee is engorged and tender ... prostate ready to pop.

My scissors only add to the pressure, as his breathing quickens with panic, relaxes with arousal, and then, finally, ceases for a moment. Lungs burning, limbs heavy, head sweating. I bring him back and put him through it over and over again in this tired purple lowlight that adds to his delirium.

He's barely hanging on when I lie him down for a quick edging in the ring. You'd think some strokes from his Mistress would be a welcome reprieve from the wrestling match we just had, but you'd think wrong. I'm not nice, and he goes back in. The day count continues.