A year later and you’re still this weak? just jiggling my tits in this little “apologies in cash” bra has you embarrassingly hard. You’ve been conditioned so well, haven’t you? One glance at my pokey nipples and your dick is already salivating, desperate to earn a single drop of relief. But you don’t get to cum because you’re horny. You cum because I say so — and only after you’ve proven how much more committed you’ve become to Me over the last year. So I make you wait. I make you hurt. I edge you until your balls ache and your breathing turns shallow, then pull back just as you’re about to spill. I want you red and sweaty, purple from the frustration. That’s when I remind you — this orgasm isn’t free. Nothing ever is. You want to finish? Then beg for the privilege. Offer me cash and Consume your cum. Humiliate yourself. Prove you’ve learned your place — beneath me, always. You know that you’ll be back next year, same time, same place, same trembling cock, same desperate need to obey. Some goons never evolve. You’re not evolving. You’re mine.
