A trembling paypig enters Mistress Erin's lair, eager to serve. She eyes him dismissively, her crimson lips curling into a sneer. "You think you deserve to touch me, worm?" she taunts, circling him like a vulture. He shakes his head, knowing better. She orders him to strip, to show her his pathetic, hard cock. He complies, humiliated. She commands him to stroke it, to edge himself while she ignores him, engrossed in a book. Hours pass. He's allowed no release, no touch from her, only the cruel sound of her turning pages, his desperation growing with each tick of the clock.