You don’t get to hide from me. When I tell you to stroke, you’re already moaning, drooling, and making a complete mess of yourself. One word from me and your body betrays you—spurting, swallowing, and grinning through that pathetic goon face. Pants soaked, cock spent, still begging for my approval. You’re not some “normal guy.” You’re my project, my plaything. I don’t touch you. I don’t have to. I speak, and you obey—because you love proving just how far you’ll go for your bratty Asian goddess.
