In my world, her orgasms are a privilege, not a right. I've positioned her just so, her back against the wall, her legs spread wide. The camera's eye captures her every twitch, every shiver as she fights the urge to cum. Her hands are bound, her vision obscured by a blindfold, and she can only follow the sound of my voice, the feel of my touch. I stroke her, my fingers slick with her arousal, and she gasps, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. But she won't cum, not until I give her permission. This is my game, my rules. And she loves every second of it.