The mistress's voice echoes in the dimly lit room, her words a sweet torment to the bound slave. She watches him, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he struggles to hold back his orgasm. His hand moves up and down his rigid cock, his grip tight, just as she instructed. His body is a canvas of sweat, his muscles tense, his breath coming in ragged gasps. She leans in, her breath hot on his ear, 'You're so close, aren't you, my little slut?' she whispers, her voice a cruel caress. 'But you won't come, not until I say so. You're mine to control, mine to use.'