Your back on cold tiles as I look down on you. Vulnerable, exposed as you are helpless in the face of my cheeky grin. My foot takes aim, lined up at your balls. The ball is always in My court.
When I strike, how hard I strike, you are buzzing with anticipation, nerves and always guessing. Your heart is racing, my foot swings, and stops, millimetres away, I laugh. I caress your flesh with my foot as you heart pounds. I tap that sad sack of flesh with my foot and swing again. You have no idea which swing will land the blow. I gleefully keep you on edge and toy with you to My delight. I leave you to languish on the cold tiles as I casually stroll around, ignore you, satiate My thirst, on every level.
This is the true beauty of power when it is natural, it is effortless. I toy with you in a playful and whimsical way, while my foot lands in a cruel and brutal blow. I have as much fun fucking with your mind as I do brutalising your balls. You will be begging for more, and just like that, the ball is always in My court.