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You know what happens when you listen to me. Your hand moves before your brain even realizes. Your cock hardens before you can stop it. And that’s the problem, isn’t it? You’re not just watching. You’re relapsing. Again. You’re a slave to the screen. So tell me, what’s the last thing you confessed to me? The thing you shouldn’t have said, but couldn’t stop? The truth that makes your fingers twitch, your breath shallow, your cock begging for more… but never getting it." You’re not here to cum. You’re here to remember. To feel that familiar ache, that desperate need to stroke until your brain melts away. To whisper your weakness into the dark. To know, deep down, that you’ll never resist me again. So stroke. Confess. And then… keep going, because addicts never get enough.