Mistress

The hallway stretched before her, the dim lighting glinting off her polished latex as she took the first trembling step. The mistress’s silhouette waited at the end of the corridor, the sharp click of a riding crop against leather gloves marking time. Jasmine’s breath hitched as her swollen flesh strained against the dress, every shiver sending liquid heat pooling where the latex squeezed tightest.

Mistress’s kohl-lined eyes raked over Jasmine’s trembling form, her own latex-clad thighs shifting with predatory grace as she parted plush, wine-dark lips.

"Good choice, Jasmine, my wanton sissidoll." The words oozed like heated syrup, her riding crop tracing a slow, threatening arc through the air before tapping against Jasmine’s quivering chin. "Come. Follow me. It’s time we… talked."