Sir makes me take it!

Sir loves making me beg.
He’ll have me naked, legs tied behind my head, pussy soaking, and still not let me have his cock.
He just stares down at me like I’m his plaything — because I am.
My clit’s swollen and throbbing, and he knows exactly how to tease it.
One slow stroke over it and I’m whining, writhing, completely at his mercy.
He’ll smack it lightly, rub circles with his thumb, then stop and make me ask.
No, beg.
“Tell me what you are,” he growls, and I have to look him in the eyes and say, “I’m your desperate little fucktoy, Sir.”
It makes my pussy clench when I say it.
It makes him smile.
He’ll keep me like that, tied and dripping, until I’m sobbing for his cock.
And only then — only when I’m broken and aching — does he finally shove it in deep.
I scream, because it’s too much, too fast, too perfect.
He says that’s what sluts like me are made for.
And he doesn’t stop until I cum all over him, again and again, while still begging for more.
Being owned by him isn’t a fantasy — it’s everything I crave.