In a cramped, dimly lit room, a domme, her body a canvas of tattoos and piercings, commands her submissive into a headscissor hold. He complies, his face pressed against her smooth, waxed labia, inhaling her musk. She rocks her hips, riding his face, her juices coating his chin as she dictates the rhythm of his tongue. His hands, bound behind his back, clench and unclench, his body tensing with the effort to control his breathing. She leans forward, her large breasts swaying, and wraps a hand around his throbbing cock. She strokes, her pace steady, her gaze locked onto his, until he's groaning, his body shaking with the effort to hold back. But she's a cruel mistress, and his no-nut November continues.