"Begging for pay" (Part 2)

_The work wasn’t done — not for him. After daring to beg for payment, I decided to keep playing with my little slave. If he really wanted his pathetic, miserable pay, he’d have to earn it — with his body, with his submission, with every humiliating second under me. He stays low, beneath me where he belongs, while I taunt him with every step, every word, every breath thick with musk and dominance. I press him into the sole of my foot, speaking to him like the good-for-nothing tiny thing he is. But I want more. I tell him to crawl along my leg — my hairy, powerful leg — until he reaches my balls. Just when he thinks he’s going there, I change my mind. Why give him the pleasure so soon? First, I want him crawling across my chest, feeling the heat of my body, the weight of my pecs, the musk from my pits.
_

He gets lost between the hair of my chest, smothered by my armpits, rubbed against my beard while I keep talking to him — reminding him who owns him, who rules over him. My voice is the only thing he hears, low and commanding, while my body becomes his world. I take pleasure in how pathetic he looks, so small between my pecs. I tell him how lucky I am to be this huge, this powerful… and what a shame it must be to live life that small, that weak. Then I lay back and spread my legs, towering above him, giving him a full view as I get off my shorts — leaving only my tight briefs stretched around everything he’s too tiny to handle. I keep him there, staring, knowing exactly what’s coming next. But not yet. Not until I say so.

Video duration: 15:50