Yes and you want more.

Your head hangs low, breath ragged, as Cin’s question echoes in your mind, haunting you. BDSM had never been something you entertained seriously. Sure, the fleeting thought of giving Sandra, the curvy girl from your D&D group, a playful spanking has crossed your mind, but this—being whipped and liking it—this was foreign, exhilarating, and terrifying.

“Cat got your tongue, Dungeon Master?” Cin’s sultry teasing voice cuts through your silence, her fingers lazily trailing across your chest, the soft caress only intensifying your inner turmoil.

You don't answer. You're afraid to admit that she's unlocked something within you, something dark, something primal.

“Hmm,” she whispers, her voice laced with wicked delight. “The weakness of men is always easy to uncover.”

Her hand glides down your chest, lower, over your belt buckle, and then finds the tip of your bulging manhood. Her fingers trace along your hardened length with expert precision, teasing you, making you groan in helpless need as the wicked temptress begins to trace the outline of your erection with deft, teasing strokes.

“Not bad,” Cin purrs approvingly as she toys with you. “Looks like the little engineering geek isn’t so little after all.” She strokes your aching cock with deliberate slowness, and you can feel the building tension, pushing you closer to the edge of an inevitable orgasm.

But before you can surrender to it, the sensation is ripped away—pleasure turns to agony as Cin suddenly clamps down on your balls with brutal ****. Her grip is like a vice, her nails sharp as talons. The pain is immense, but you don't break position, held in place as if by some twisted spell of submission, knowing you haven’t been given permission.

"So, you like the pain," Cin's voice deepens, taking on a primal, almost predatory tone, though still laced with eroticism.

All you can manage is a low, guttural moan as you start to ejaculate into your underpants, humiliating yourself, ashamed that such degradation can turn you on so.

"But we're getting ahead of ourselves," she says, releasing her grip and stepping back, leaving you gasping from the cruel, ruined orgasm. "We have business to take care of first."

She mutters something under her breath, words you can't quite catch through the haze of your post-partial-climax daze: "Ngat ma pe ki wang tye ka kuro." Then, without missing a beat, she tosses you your shirt and commands you to get dressed.

Cin sits back down, picking up her beer. The cruel intensity in her eyes softens, returning to the playful tone of earlier, as if nothing had happened. You stand there, lost for words, the cum stains in your pants drying as she casually makes small talk, giving you a moment to collect yourself before you finish dressing.