This is the year that I get everything that I want. Maybe you're familiar w my willpower, perhaps you're just getting acquainted. On some level, you feel like if you can just contain yourself, I won't succeed. You resent my ease, and my power. You resent me for using it without apology. And yet, you are in awe. The rational part of your mind has been feeding you a steady stream of warnings, but denying yourself what you know you want to do for so long has put you in an extremely...uncomfortable position. It's almost like you've primed yourself for my use. And you're only a man; there's only so much pain you can take before you give in. And...you will. You're going to fail. You're going to be mine, branded eternally as another weak bitch who broke down and drained himself dry for my amusement. At least sit back and enjoy the view as the world as you knew it closes in around you.
