Life Could Be A Dream... Part Two
I guess I just needed a slave with a creative mind, someone willing to go the extra distance to debase himself for me. He couldn't provide. So I strapped him to a table one night, hooked a vibrator up to his belt, and I left, leaving him all alone in his blueballed hell. I hired somebody to untie him after a couple of days or so, but he never knew where I went, and he never got the key to his orgasms back. I essentially castrated him. The best he could hope for was to find another mistress who would put him through the same ecstasy that I did.
But that won't happen to you, will it, slave? You're going to last. I can tell.
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