Go ahead, say it—I have no self-control. Let it sink in, because it’s true, isn’t it? Mistress Sasha knows exactly what unravels you, and I love how powerless you are against me. My body—my perfect tits, my hard nipples, my delicious pussy, and that ass you can’t stop dreaming about—it’s all too much for you. Just watching me makes you weak, doesn’t it? Tell me how it breaks you down, how every curve sends that desperate signal to your cock, screaming for you to pump. But you can’t. Not yet. No stroking, no touching, just you sitting there, rock hard and helpless, while I tease and taunt you. I see it in your eyes—you’re already losing it, aching to give in. As I strip down exposing my naked body you know that body was made for this, to toy with you, to wind you up so tight you can barely breathe. You won’t make it to the end, will you? The second I let you stroke, that’s it—two pumps, maybe three, and you’ll explode, because that’s all it takes with me. Tell me how my body owns you. Say it loud—‘Mistress Sasha’s body makes me weak.’ No hands yet, just watch and suffer, knowing I’ve got you completely wrapped around my finger until I finally give you permission to stroke and explode.
