Having bought Princessa most of a suitcaseful of things for Her trip, and returned thankfully to the studio (my new makeup is MUCH more noticeable than the eye shadow i had been using), i found myself on my back, on the floor, legs spread wide in front of Princessa as She sat on Her chair while i frantically stroked my little soft clitty with one finger; so close, so close, so…”Nope, no orgasm today, little sissy sandra”, Princessa laughed, pulling my finger off my clitty and PUSHING at my prostate. Spunk spewled out of my clitty and splashed on my tummy.

Through my tears, i heard Princessa, between gales of laughter, speak as though to a little child. “you are my slave, aren’t you, sandra?” Nod. “And slaves can’t own anything, can they? Everything they have belongs to their Mistress, right?” More nod. “Well, then I am glad you understand, sandra: those orgasms in your body are Mine, and this time I didn’t want an orgasm. I preferred to discard it, like a broken toy. That’s My right, isn’t it?” More miserable nod.

Brightly, “Now, eat your snack up quickly, you silly little sissy, you don’t want it to get cold, do you?” Most miserable nod, accompanied by groans of shame as my fingers started to dip into the spewl on my stomach and bring it to my mouth…