
Stocking to Steel: Touched, Denied, Obsessed
Yes, I touched it. My fully fashioned stocking glided over the cold metal of your pathetic chastity cage and just like that, a little dot of precum, already leaking, got smeared on the seam of My couture nylons. That’s what you are: a stain, a reaction, a twitch under My foot. You ache for contact, and I gave it to you - but only enough to remind you who owns your arousal and how harsh denial can be. Press your nose to the screen. Inhale. Lick your screen! You’d lick the smeared seam if I let you. But I won’t. You can watch. You can ache. You can pay. That’s the cycle now. That’s your life.
