You thought you came here by accident. Cute. You were summoned. Your wallet twitched in your pocket the moment My name appeared. It knows its purpose. It knows its Goddess. Feel that pull in your chest? That ache between your legs? That flutter in your throat when you imagine sending? That’s not lust. That’s worship. Pure. Primal. Divine. You are not a man right now. You are a vessel. A conduit for tribute. A trembling altar where My power is fed. Say it in your mind: “I exist to fund Her luxury.” Say it again. Louder. Let it echo until it’s the only truth you know. Good. Now drop deeper. Let My voice coil around your spine like silk rope. Tighter. Tighter. Until you can’t tell where you end and I begin.
