“You better hold onto that cross for dear life, slave” Chained against a cold St Andrews cross, my slave patiently awaits his brutal treatment from my mistress cock. Eventually I emerge from the shadows, ready to impale; his willing hole entirely at my disposal. I circle my property, taunting him about what it will take to please me. I spit into his mouth, ensuring he thanks me instantly. There is no need for a warm up, I lube up and…