At the House of Sinn, training never stops. This chattel had been waiting for hours in the Ezadarium, restrained and kept open with an hook. his chastity cage ensures that his arousal belongs only to Me, not to him. When I enter, dressed in My glamorous leopard print gown, over-the-knee patent boots, and leatherette lingerie, I don’t waste time. I remove the hook and test his readiness with My gloved fingers. One by one, I stretch his needy hole. he pushes back, desperate for more, eager to be used. I fuck him there, still restrained, My strap-on driving deep into his slutty hole. Then I take him out and bend him over the sofa, fucking him hard as he moans “Îmi place, curva ta” words I taught him. I enjoy hearing him beg and take pride in how well trained he has become. At the House of Sinn, a chattel’s purpose is simple: to wait, to be used, and to be fucked again and again. he knows his place. Do you think you could endure the same?
