My boy has only been out for one edging since his witchy ruin, and he's desperate for some attention. The little sweetheart actually sent an inquiry requesting some particular acts for our session tonight, instead of leaving it all to Me.

Sure, honey, you can tell me what you want ... and then I'll flip the script and make you sorry you ever asked for it.

I'm in fine form with a fresh wax and some new black strappy lace panties (thanks, Steven xoxo). I suspect they will be his undoing. I simply look ... smell ... taste too delicious. And I peel the panties to the side to make sure he knows it. It's right f*cking there, and he can't have it.

He's suffering, denied, locked. Throatsitting, facesitting, reverse facesitting, bare facesitting, headscissors, and some spitting on his cage and rubbing it all around ... as a treat. The only reprieve is serving Me and hoping that I'll KO him into peaceful delirium. Too many naps to count.

Taste it: fresh wax, new panties

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