Imagine after days of cruel teasing, obeying my instructions to slowly fuck your slave sister, watching her eyes. You can see a storm building in those eyes, full of fear, arousal, need, discomfort, pleasure, dread, affection, gratitude, betrayal, helplessness, and anticipation.
You can feel her pussy clench on your strap-on as she begins to avoid the orgasm she wants. Her thighs, back, and neck already sore, cramped from the tight rope. Her breathing already strained from arousal and her compressed predicament. She starts whimpering and her forehead starts wrinkling from the effort and worry of how a sweet and much needed orgasm will feel. Memories of how she flails and convulses when she cums hang thick in the air as the smell of her arousal fills your head.
In the corner of your eye you can see me, crop in hand. The thought of her trying to squirm away from forced orgasms, the vibe turned up to high, my crop ‘encouraging’ you to fuck her faster, harder… you can tell she’s thinking about it, too.