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Miss Brat, my Dominatrix, had a way of commanding my every move with such authority that I was completely under her spell. As she instructed me to kneel and pick up the discarded condoms, a rush of excitement mixed with shame washed over me. Each condom I collected felt like a physical representation of my submission to her and the power she held over me. Despite the embarrassment I felt, there was a part of me that was undeniably aroused by the entire experience. It was a conflicting mix of emotions, but I couldn't deny the thrill of being her compliant follower. I eagerly awaited her next command, the anticipation building inside me as I prepared to prove my loyalty and devotion to her in any way she desired. The control she held over me was overwhelming, leaving me yearning for more of her dominance. I knew deep down that I belonged at her feet, ready and willing to serve and obey her every whim for as long as she desired. It was a feeling unlike anything I had ever experienced, and