It's a room that is mostly empty. A secret playground of mine where I get to satisfy some twisted desires which include making those I find teasingly appealing shriek and quiver. One doesn't need to be an extraordinary attentive person to hear even the smallest things in my basement. It's not your spread legs I face, but that little hissing sound in the background tickles my ears. An unavoidable event really, only natural. Still, I suspect wetting a stranger's floor like that mustn't feel quite prideful for a big girl. Pulling myself back to a sitting position once again, I look back over my shoulders. The tiles that lie between your legs certainly look shinier. "My word…" I watch as your pussy leaks, as you just let go like a bitter puppy I've forgotten to take for a walk. Perhaps, leaking may not be the right word here, given the stream is rather consistent and somewhat thick.<br/><br/>"Look at that…" Not that you can see it, but a smirk slightly turns up the corners of my mouth. "Are you that scared?" Both my hands on your belly, I massage your naked form for a bit. They soon begin to move though, slowly sliding up to cup your breasts. Although the gravity is working against them, there is still a lot to cling to for me atop your chest. "How do I turn off this little faucet?" My fingers scale a mound, two of them ending up pinching its pink peak. "Here?" I twist your nipple. Like winding a clock, or turning a little volume knob. Eventually letting that bump go, I opt to hold your fine orbs from their bases, enjoy the feeling of squeezed supple flesh. I was sure these shapely bits would offer me quite a bit of fun. How they feel in my hands proves me right too.<br/><br/>"Could it be because I've told you that I'll break you, little dove?" The fact that you are unable to talk doesn't make me less talkative. On the contrary, I like when people quietly listen to me. And sometimes, not so quietly. Suffice it to say, you're already getting louder. "I'd better get my hammer then." My butt rises up sooner than my hands. To engrave the sound of my footsteps in your mind, I walk back to the table. By now, you must know it only takes me a minute to head to the end of the room and return. This time, it roughly takes two minutes. Clicking of my heels gains a richer tune before I stand between your thighs. To emphasise the mess you've made, I tap my foot on the little puddle you've created. However, I don't stay there too long. Instead, my legs elegantly rise on either side of your waist.<br/><br/>"Do you remember how I look?" I swing my left arm. A small army of leather tails lashes across your chest. It's not a hammer what I hold, after all. A downward strike let me focus my attack on a single breast. All at once, dark tresses lap that charming orb intensely. "One fist, yes." A sideways swing makes the thin ends of implement graze your opposite orb. "Two fists, no." Since I haven't gagged you only to remove it rather early in our little game, I suggest a simple means of communication using the little freedom you still possess. The same poor breast gets another lashing from me as I bring the implement down, letting the tails lie on it.