Bitch For Pantyhose

Dressed for the office, heels clicking, she catches the sissy staring at the sheer gloss on her legs. One look and the decision is made. She pins him with her stare, strips him bare, then winds layer after layer of her worn pantyhose around his wrists and ankles until he can barely twitch. Tight. Slick. Trapped in nylon that still carries her warmth. She edges him with slow, deliberate strokes, letting precum bead and drip without ever granting release. Each desperate whimper only hardens her resolve. She slaps his leaking cock, laughs low when he sobs, then rubs the head with the sole of her stockinged foot until he’s shaking. He begs, voice cracking, tears streaking his face. She just smiles, leans in close, and whispers that the real fun hasn’t even started.