This is our routine. His nightly treatment. Forget the fussy studio equipment. The thousands of dollars of lingerie. The assortment of toys. It's just us, every single night, seeing how much he can take. Giving him that extra bit of attention he needs to sustain his denial so that it doesn't turn into boring old abstinence, and there's nothing boring about it. It's amazing what I can accomplish with only my hands and some coconut oil. After days of denial, I sit on him, spit on him, stroke him, smack him, knee him, tease him into a frenzy. His entire body convulses in pleasure and pain ...

This is our routine. His nightly treatment. Forget the fussy studio equipment. The thousands of dollars of lingerie. The assortment of toys. It's just us, every single night, seeing how much he can take. Giving him that extra bit of attention he needs to sustain his denial so that it doesn't turn into boring old abstinence, and there's nothing boring about it. It's amazing what I can accomplish with only my hands and some coconut oil. After days of denial, I sit on him, spit on him, stroke him, smack him, knee him, tease him into a frenzy. His entire body convulses in pleasure and pain as it prepares to orgasm but never does. I bring him to the edge and back him off -- over and over and over, again and again and again. I stroke in rhythm with my body moving over his. I polish his tip and knee his balls and stroke him until ... until what? No ruin. No crippling busting. No cage. Just your Mistress deciding you've had enough. Good boy.