She stepped close and reached down, picking up his discarded boxers from the floor. The fabric was still warm.

“Head down,” she commanded.

He obeyed.

She folded the cloth slowly, deliberately, and tied it tight around his eyes.

“Now you don’t get to look at me,” she said softly. “You get to feel. That’s all you’ve earned.”

He shivered, arms tightening slightly in the bindings above. Blind now. Waiting.

Cass brushed the crop along the underside of his cock, barely a touch.

He twitched violently.

“Sensitive. Predictable. Pathetic.”

A pause.

Snap.

A sharp sting to the side of his shaft. Liam gasped, his whole body jerking in the restraints.

Cass smiled.

Another slap, harder. Lower. The tip of the crop struck the base of his cock, just above his balls.

He moaned, raw and startled.

“Can’t even keep still, can you?” she murmured. “Dripping like a filthy bitch in heat. Control yourself.”

Another slap. The head of his cock glistened.

Cass leaned in and swiped a finger across the leaking precum, slowly, deliberately.

Then she smeared it across his lower stomach.

“Look at this mess,” she tsked before pressing her slicked finger to his lips.

He opened without hesitation and groaned as he tasted himself.

Cass’s breath caught in her throat. God, this was intoxicating, watching him shiver with every word, every slap, every cruel little act of ownership.

She struck his cock again, this time harder, sharp, direct. He cried out.

She struck his thigh.

Then his other.

Then let the crop rest against his cheek, trailing down his jaw.

“You’re nothing but a cock, a pair of trembling legs, and a mess I haven’t finished making yet,” she whispered.

He whimpered, half moan, half plea, and she saw it: he was loving it. Thriving under her cruelty.

She leaned in, tongue flicking over his neck where a welt was rising.

And whispered:

“You don’t cum until I say. You don’t breathe too deep unless I allow it. And if you do,” she brought the crop up between his legs again, just grazing, “I’ll make you regret it.”

Cass watched Liam sway slightly in the ropes, blindfolded, panting, his cock flushed and slick. He was trembling, not from pain now, but from the pressure building low and cruel in his belly.

She hadn’t touched him in a full minute.

And yet, his hips still twitched forward with every breath, chasing what wasn’t there.

So desperate, she thought. So easy.

She stepped in close and brushed a single finger up his shaft, barely more than air.

He gasped.

“Do you feel how pathetic you are?” she whispered. “You’d cum from nothing if I let you.”

He nodded, mouth slack. “Yes, Mistress.”

She gripped his cock in one hand, tight, sudden.

He groaned, hips bucking instinctively.

She didn’t stroke.

She just held him there. Possessive. Unforgiving.

“Do you think I want you to cum?” she murmured in his ear. “You haven’t earned that. You’re a leaking, whimpering mess. You’ve done nothing but moan and beg.”

Her thumb grazed the head, slick, throbbing, angry-red.

He moaned again. Louder this time.

“Oh, you want it,” she said, mockingly tender. “But want doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”

She began to stroke. Liam’s knees nearly gave out. The rope caught him.

“Is this what you need?” she asked, voice syrup-smooth. “Do you want to cum for your Queen?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “Please. Please, Mistress.”

She quickened the pace slightly. Enough to tip him forward. Then she stopped and let go.

Cold air rushed where her touch had been.

Liam whimpered like something inside him had snapped.

“No,” she said simply. “Not yet.”

She leaned in, biting gently at his shoulder where a welt still burned. Her voice was a hiss against his ear.

“You’ll cum when I say. Not before. Not even if you cry.”

One hand on his chest now, flat, firm, holding him steady.

The other slid back down, taking his cock again. This time, she stroked faster. Rougher. Rhythmic.

Liam gasped, whined, hips straining, “Are you close?” she asked, flatly.

“Yes, Mistress, so close,”

She stopped again.

His whole body spasmed.

“No,” she mussed. “You still don’t deserve it.”

His cry was raw, broken. He slumped in the ropes.

Cass watched him.

Breathing hard.

Every inch of him glistening, flushed, leaking, begging without words now.

And still, he waited.

Cass circled him slowly, her heels clicking on the floor like punctuation to his helpless breathing.

He was hanging, blindfolded arms bound, cock twitching, covered in welts and glistening with frustration. Blindfolded. Dripping.

Perfect.

She stopped behind him and whispered, low and deliberate:

“I’m going to undress now. I want you to imagine it. Because you don’t get to see.” She slowly started to pull off her clothes. “There goes my shirt,” she said. “And now… my bra. My tits are out, hard from watching you squirm for me.”

Liam whimpered.

“My trousers are gone. Now my knickers. I’m naked. I’m inches from you. I bet you can feel the heat of my body close to you.”

He shivered.

Then she pulled something else from her draw. Cass lifted the vibrator to his ear, let it hum against his skin.

“This?” she purred. “This is better than you’ll ever be.”

She stepped back.

And without hesitation, slid the toy between her thighs.

A gasp tore from her lips, sharp, guttural.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned. “I’m so wet.”

She leaned into him, her mouth close to his ear, hips rocking slowly as the vibrator pulsed inside her.

“Can you hear it?” she whispered. “Can you smell me? I’m fucking myself right next to you, and all you can do is drip and beg.”

Liam whimpered again, hands flexing uselessly in the bindings.

She moaned, louder this time. Raw, wanton. Her pleasure tangible.

Then, without warning, Crack. Her palm slapped across his cheek. Hard. Sharp. A red bloom rose instantly.

He cried out, more shock than pain.

Before he could speak, her mouth was on his, rough, devouring, dominant. Teeth scraped. Tongue pushed. No gentleness.

She pulled back, lips wet, panting.

“This is mine,” she hissed. “You are mine. And you will hear me cum, helpless. Denied.”

Her hips bucked again. She was close.

And Liam? Strung out on the edge, desperate, shaking, his cock an aching monument to her power.

Cass didn’t let up.

Her lips crashed into his again, rough, needy, wet. Her tongue filled his mouth, devouring the last of his resistance. She bit his lower lip hard enough to make him groan, then pulled away with a grin.

The vibrator buzzed inside her, deep and relentless. Her hips rocked. The edge was rising fast, fed by the sight of Liam: blindfolded, flushed, completely helpless.

She reached down and gripped his cock again, slick, hot, twitching from denial. She stroked him slowly, deliberately, as her breath grew ragged.

“You’re so hard for me,” she whispered, moaning as her hips jerked. “You’re aching, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Liam gasped, his voice shaking.

Her other hand slapped him again, sharp, stinging, across the other cheek.

Then another kiss, brutal and messy. Her moans poured into his mouth as she rutted against her own pleasure.

She stroked him faster now, just as her own movements grew wilder.

“You will not cum,” she hissed. “Not unless I say. If you even twitch, I’ll leave you tied here all night.”

Liam whimpered, as her hand left him unsatisfied once again. She slapped his cock—light but mean.

Then kissed the welt.

Another stroke. Another grind. Her thighs trembled.

“Oh fuck,” she growled. “I’m going to cum all over this fucking toy while you hang there, dripping and desperate.”

Her body shook.

With one hand on his chest, one on his cock, she moaned into his mouth again, long, loud, feral.

And then she came.

Hard.

She cried out, burying her face against his neck, her legs shaking, her cunt pulsing around the vibrator still humming inside her.

Then she pulled back, panting.

She kissed him again. Then smiled against his lips.

Cass exhaled slowly, her thighs still trembling as the last ripples of her orgasm faded. The room was thick with sweat, heat, and the low buzz of spent tension.

She reached down and slid the vibrator from between her legs, wet, glistening, the soft hum finally silenced with a click.

Liam’s head hung low, blindfolded, chest heaving, still hard and twitching, still untouched by release.

She stepped in close and dragged the vibrator across his lips.

He inhaled sharply.

“You smell that?” she murmured. “That’s what it smells like when I cum, pet.”

She pressed it harder against his mouth.

“Suck.”

He opened willingly.

The head of the toy slid between his lips. He moaned, low and broken, sucking her slick arousal from the toy.

Cass watched, aroused all over again by how eagerly he took it.

“That’s all you get of me,” she whispered. “The taste of my orgasm. While you stay hard, leaking, and denied.”

She slipped the vibrator from his mouth and let it fall to the floor.

Then her hand wrapped around his cock again.

Slow, firm strokes.

He groaned, muffled, restrained by his own trembling body.

Cass leaned in, tongue flicking the sweat from his collarbone.

Her grip didn’t relent. Every stroke was slow torture, just enough to keep him on fire, not enough to tip him over.

Cass knelt slowly, gracefully, her eyes never leaving him, even if his were still blindfolded.

Liam trembled in the ropes, his cock still hard, glistening with precum and desperation. His breath came in short, uneven gasps. His thighs shook. His body begged.

She tilted her head, watching the way he twitched just from her breath near his tip.

And then, with no warning at all, she licked him, one long, slow stroke from base to head.

Liam cried out, the sound half moan, half disbelief.

Cass smiled.

“Didn’t think I’d be kind, did you?” she said softly. She wrapped one hand around the base of his cock to steady it. Then she took him into her mouth.

Liam groaned, every muscle in his body tightening in the restraints. He tried not to thrust, he knew better, but his hips trembled with the effort.

Cass bobbed her head, dragging her tongue along every inch of him before she pulled off with a wet pop. “Not yet,” she whispered. She may have been being more gentle but she still wanted to torment him. “Begging would be a nice touch.”

“Mistress,” he gasped, voice broken. “Please. Please let me cum. I need it. I, I can’t!”

She cut him off by taking him deep again, moaning around his length just to hear him whimper.

Then she pulled off once more and looked up at him, face flushed, lips wet.

“Explode for me,” she growled. “Fill my fucking mouth. Give me what I earned, what I own.”

Her hand pumped him now, fast and tight, as she licked and kissed the tip.

“Cum, Liam. Now.”

That was all it took.

He let out a ragged, shattered moan, and came, hard, pulsing thick into her mouth, every rope of it taken with practiced greed.

Cass didn’t flinch. She held him steady, taking every drop.

Only when he stopped twitching did she release him, kissing the base of his cock before rising to her feet.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

She rose from her knees, standing tall before him, his body still bound, trembling, his breath shallow, skin flushed and marked. Then leaned in. Cass hadn’t swallowed.

Her lips glistened. Her mouth full. She pressed her mouth to his and kissed him.

Liam moaned as he tasted himself on her tongue, salty, slick, filthy. His own release shared, smeared between them as their mouths collided, tongues tangling in a fevered rhythm.

Cass pushed forward, her hands on his jaw, holding him still as she devoured him, letting some of it drip between their lips, uncaring, caught up in the intensity. Liam responded with everything he had left. 

She finally pulled away licking her lips before leaning back in and licking his. Then, softly, she smiled.

Cass stood there a moment, just watching him, his chest rising and falling, his body limp in the restraints, still trembling, marked, blindfolded, but glowing with something deeper than release.

She reached up and untied the silk rope from the ceiling hook with steady fingers, lowering his arms slowly, gently, letting him slump forward into her.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him upright, letting him lean into her. Her lips brushed his ear, now soft, no longer the Queen, just Cass. “You did so well.”

She reached up and undid the blindfold.

Liam blinked, eyes red, dazed, then found her face. His mouth opened like he wanted to speak, but nothing came out.

Cass smiled, small and honest. “Hi.”

He smiled too, shaky, vulnerable. “Hi.” Then, softer: “That was… incredible.”

She nodded, brushing her thumb across the welt on his cheek. “Too much?”

“No,” he whispered. “Not even close.”

Cass exhaled.

Some part of her dominant veneer fell away completely. She reached for a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around his shoulders, guiding him to sit.

She sat beside him, not quite touching, giving him space.

“You alright?” she asked. “Really?”

Liam nodded, breath finally evening out. “Yeah. I… I didn’t know I could go there. But I trusted you.”

Cass looked down, fingers flexing around the edge of the blanket. “I wasn’t sure. At first. If you were really into it.”

He gave a hoarse little laugh. “Oh, I was.”

She smiled.

“You were incredible,” he said, quietly.

Cass looked at him. “So were you.”

They sat in silence for a while, just breathing. 

She finally broke it with a smirk.

“So... same time next week?”