Neena De Ville – Smoking on the Throne

Mistress Neena De Ville sits high on her throne, legs crossed, wrapped in glistening black leather like a serpent at rest — calm, poised, untouchable. The dungeon is still, lit low in red, and at her feet, her slave kneels with his mouth open and eyes wide, waiting to serve as the ashtray she requires. She lights her cigarette with deliberate grace, the flame casting shadows across her cheekbones as she exhales slowly — smoke curling like a spell. Without a word, she taps the ash toward him, watching it fall, delicate and precise. He dares not flinch. But when a single flake tumbles to the floor, her heel stomps beside his cock with a crack, and he knows what’s coming. She lifts her whip, and lands a brutal stripe across his shaft — no warning, no mercy. “Clean it,” she commands, pointing to the ash with the tip of her stiletto. And he does, tongue trembling, eyes wet, humiliated and aching — just the way she likes him.