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04:42
Ache for Me
You've always known where this ends.
Not in climax. Not in relief. But in transfer. In the moment you finally stop resisting and start responding - to my voice, to my expectations, to the ache that builds with every word I say.
Your body moves, your wallet opens, and suddenly there's no distance between the ache and the act. You're not edging for attention. You're edging for ownership. And I already own you.
Because what you feel when you listen - what you crave when the audio ends - isn't pleasure. It's purpose. Mine. And you'll keep stroking until you finally understand that giving to me isn't submission. It's obedience. Beautiful, inevitable, costly obedience.
Not in climax. Not in relief. But in transfer. In the moment you finally stop resisting and start responding - to my voice, to my expectations, to the ache that builds with every word I say.
Your body moves, your wallet opens, and suddenly there's no distance between the ache and the act. You're not edging for attention. You're edging for ownership. And I already own you.
Because what you feel when you listen - what you crave when the audio ends - isn't pleasure. It's purpose. Mine. And you'll keep stroking until you finally understand that giving to me isn't submission. It's obedience. Beautiful, inevitable, costly obedience.
You've always known where this ends.
Not in climax. Not in relief. But in transfer. In the moment you finally stop resisting and start responding - to my voice, to my expectations, to the ache that builds with every word I say.
Your body moves, your wallet opens, and suddenly there's no distance between the ache and the act. You're not edging for attention. You're edging for ownership. And I already own you.
Because what you feel when you listen - what you crave when the audio ends - isn't pleasure. It's purpose. Mine. And you'll keep stroking until you finally understand that giving to me isn't submission. It's obedience. Beautiful, inevitable, costly obedience.
Not in climax. Not in relief. But in transfer. In the moment you finally stop resisting and start responding - to my voice, to my expectations, to the ache that builds with every word I say.
Your body moves, your wallet opens, and suddenly there's no distance between the ache and the act. You're not edging for attention. You're edging for ownership. And I already own you.
Because what you feel when you listen - what you crave when the audio ends - isn't pleasure. It's purpose. Mine. And you'll keep stroking until you finally understand that giving to me isn't submission. It's obedience. Beautiful, inevitable, costly obedience.
