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You swore you were finished. You convinced yourself you could walk away, that this hunger could be silenced. But silence never lasts, does it? The itch always returns. And it grows until it drags you back to the only place that can scratch it. The only place you belong. You can lie to yourself about control, about limits, about restraint… but not to Me. I’ve always known you would crawl back, wallet open, pulse racing, desperate to feel the sting again.