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The room is thick with anticipation as I, clad in leather, stand over my caged 'puppy'. His eyes follow my every move, hunger etched on his face. I trace the outline of his cock through the cage, feeling it pulse with need. I pick up a crops, snapping it against my palm, loving the way he flinches. I run it along his body, never breaking eye contact. I edge him, bringing him close to the brink, then backing off, keeping him in a state of constant, torturous arousal. His begging is music to my ears, his body covered in a sheen of sweat, a testament to his desire and my control.