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I let you get close. I let you think I’m merciful. You beg for release, whispering that you can’t hold it anymore, and I grant permission with a quiet nod that feels like salvation. But the moment your body relaxes, I take it back. Your relief turns into arousal, your muscles lock, and your own body betrays you in the most exquisite way. The need that once promised freedom becomes its own form of bondage. Your cock becomes the lock, your desire the cage. Every throb is another reminder that you’re not in control of a single thing - not your body, not your pleasure, not your release. The harder you try to let go, the deeper you fall into my rhythm. It’s not metal or chains that bind you - it’s biology, tension, and my voice curling through your head, whispering exactly what you can’t do. I watch you tremble, caught between pain and pleasure, desperate to obey, desperate to fail. Every instinct screams to let go, but you can’t - not until I decide you’ve earned it. You’re learning what it means to be perfectly trained: a body that betrays itself on command, a mind that craves control more than release. And when you finally realize that even failure is part of my design… that’s when you understand. You were never meant to be free. You were meant to be kept.