Oh, this poor slave. Those sad, dangling testicles of his are begging for the kind of merciless attention only a true bratty Goddess like me can deliver. Why don't I wrap my strong, manicured fingers around them and stretch them to their absolute limits? Imagine the scene: me gripping his swollen balls tightly, pulling and tugging with deliberate strength, watching the skin stretch taut as he writhes and gasps in that delicious mix of pain and pleasure. His breaths come out in ragged, desperate pants. I yank harder, making him feel every inch of the torment I'm inflicting. But stretching is just the warm-up, isn't it? I know he can take more for me, so he will. His suffering is music to my ears.