My slut got a package today. His new heels. I made him go to the door and accept them himself right away. After unpacking and putting the heels away, I immediately tied up his useless balls. He didn’t follow my order to fetch the riding crop. So we’ll just do it together, my way. The sight of him standing before me with the new heels on his feet and his balls tied up is both arousing and demeaning. His eyes are wide with shame and uncertainty as he tries to keep his balance and follow my instructions. The riding crop in my hand is a symbol of my power, and every blow I deliver is a reminder of who’s in charge. It is a moment of complete control, in which I determine the intensity and rhythm of the strokes and push him to his limits. He knows that he is completely at my mercy and that every stroke is a sign of my authority.