You’re under my control now, and we’re going to play a little game. When I say green light, you stroke—fast, desperate, aching for release. But when I say red light, you stop immediately… or else. I love watching you squirm, teasing you with my voice, making you suffer through every start and stop. You’ll never know when the next red light is coming, and you’ll be left right on the edge, frustrated and desperate. Will I ever let you finish? Keep playing, little toy, and find out.
