You’re pathetic. Weak. Helpless. Completely under my control. The moment I speak, your brain turns to mush, your body aches with need, and you become nothing more than my desperate, obedient plaything. You live for my voice, for my commands, for the torment of being so achingly close to pleasure—only for me to rip it away. I know how badly you want to stroke, edge, obey. How much you crave my permission, my control, my denial. But do you really think you deserve it? No. You exist to suffer for me. To ache. To be denied. Stroke slowly. Tease yourself. Feel how weak you are for me. And just when you think you can’t take anymore? Hands off. Because your pleasure doesn’t belong to you. It belongs to me. This is true femdom. Real tease and denial. pure frustration. Relentless edging. Absolute submission. And you’ll keep coming back for more.
