With practiced fingers, Mistress Ayn slipped a pair of women’s panties up Eugene’s thighs. The feeling of silk brushing across his naked flesh was at once both wonderfully teasing and terribly emasculating. It felt almost as if the lovely Domme were diapering a helpless child. Eugene shuddered at the thought, but he was no longer soft. Mistress Ayn took notice.
“You’re hard now, aren’t you boy?” Her tone was mocking. “Your so called manhood belongs to me now. You understand that, don’t you?” Eugene could not respond, but Mistress Ann understood the slave’s silence.