Confessions of a Nympho

Nymphomania, what a fucking joke. Poor Mimosa’s been at war with her own pussy for years, can’t keep her hands off it. Fingers glued to her clit like she’s got no choice, rubbing herself raw whenever the urge hits. So she shows up at your door looking for a cure, the one doctor who takes the hopeless cases. She’s desperate. You can smell it on her. And you know the price. She’s going to pay with her ass, her thighs, every inch you decide to mark. Cane laid out. Dildo ready. No quick fixes. You make her wait, you make her beg, you make her hold back until the need turns vicious. Each stroke across her fat ass forces her to choke down another desperate moan. Every time she tries to grind against the toy you yank it away, leaving her shaking, dripping, humiliated. She wanted help. This is it. Bruises blooming, cunt throbbing, and you still won’t let her come. You decide when, or if, she ever gets to. She asked for control. You took it.