You thought you needed My whole body to fall apart? No. One finger is enough. This finger owns you. Raised in disgust, dripping with My contempt. You’ll stroke to it because you can’t resist Me, harder with every glare, every smirk, every second I remind you how pathetic you are. This isn’t pleasure. It’s weakness. Every drop you spill proves that My rejection turns you on more than anything else ever could. And you’ll keep coming back for it, over and over, because once I own you with this finger… there’s no way out.
