The soloboy, hard and aching, sits alone in Corvinhole's lair. His hand grips his dick, feeling every vein, every pulse. The femdom's voice, sultry yet firm, fills the room. "Stroke it," she commands, and he obeys, his hand moving in rhythm with her words. His mind's eye fills with images of her - her powerful stance, her commanding gaze, her pussy, wet and waiting. He's a slave to her voice, his solo session a testament to her power, his dick a tool for her pleasure, his pussy-obsessed mind her playground.