Scared Of My Whip

I always find it so amusing how easy it is to make a grown man whimper like a little scolded puppy. The click of my boot heels, the raking of my nails down its exposed flesh, my single tail whip flying through the air and cracking oh so close to it's quivering mass. That last one does it every time. The slave knows what's coming next, of course. I will further amuse myself by making it endure a sound whipping until I'm satisfied with the red welts left behind. It's back and ass are mine to abuse. When I'm finished, I might even allow it to kiss my boots and thank me for its punishment, or I might not.