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It’s time to let go—completely. Your mind is empty, your body is weak, and you are mine. Every thought, every movement, every craving now belongs to me. You exist for my pleasure, and I love watching you melt under my control. Stroke for me, mindlessly, helplessly, because there is no escape.

Feel that? That aching need? That’s your body responding to its owner. I control your pleasure, I dictate your release, and I decide when you break. You’ll milk that prostate, obey my every command, and let yourself spiral deeper into the addiction of my voice. Your purpose is clear: to serve, to stroke, and to worship me.

And don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you—by taking everything. Your body, your mind, and your wallet. You’ll spoil me, you’ll obey, and you’ll thank me for the privilege. Because you know you need this. You know you need me. Now, stroke.