The hottest thing you can do for Me is be so confident in your sexuality that you'll let Me watch you reach behind your own back. Secure straight men don't flinch at one little finger, and you're not scared of your own pleasure, are you? No lube, because I want to see you feel every bit of that friction and watch your face when your body finally relaxes and lets you in. Slide it slow and deep until you find your prostate, then arch that back for Me and show Me how good it feels to be a little slutty when nobody's judging you. Moan louder, rock back onto your hand, and let your cock get harder and harder without a single touch, because the more you let go, the more I like you. You're going to cum from your ass alone, all over your thigh, then lick your fingers clean and thank Me for turning you into such a confident little butt slut. Confidence looks so good on you.

You came before I finished my first sentence last time. No stroking. No begging. Just spurt. You didn't even say thank you. So tonight the clock belongs to me. One inch of movement, up, down, on my voice, in lingerie you will never once be inside of, then hands off while it throbs and you learn what waiting costs. That thing standing up between your legs is not what men have. It's a fear boner. It already knows how this ends. Two hours of barely lightly edging and going soft, edging and going soft, until your premature ejaculation problem solves itself the only way it can: erectile dysfunction, on purpose, by my design. Then I let you finish. No arch, no flood, just a cold clear smear you stare at wondering why it felt like nothing. Ruined orgasm, virgin humiliation and cum denial in one breath. Lick it off your finger. Same edge tomorrow. Same nothing forever.

Put me on my knees in your head. Feel my breath come through the gaps, my tongue flicking the bars, tracing the ring and every scrap of skin the metal left exposed, and then feel me lift away the second you swell against it. This is cock sucking you only get to imagine, blowjob instructions delivered through a chastity device you can't grow out of. Hands off. I mean it. You climb on my voice alone, handsfree, and when your body jumps without my permission it's a trickle through the bars, not an orgasm. Barely sticky, shaking, ashamed. Then I build you back up and strip it away again, cleaner this time. No release. Just the ache, the empty, and the forever ruin.

Your secret was never safe, and part of you prayed I would find it. I don't even have to push, since you reach for the padded push-up yourself, which is why encouraged feminization works so well on you. Once 20 denier nylons hug your thighs, my pantyhose domination stops feeling like a rule and starts feeling like relief. You wobble in stilettos while posing for my screenshots, and it dawns on you that your boss is only one post away from seeing them. How could you let this happen? Your profile has grown so massive. But the panic makes you harder, doesn't it? This exposed fantasy play is where you feel honest and vulnerable. Keep it on, because going back to normal was never your call.

You spent years pretending that little thing carries weight, and I'm done humoring you. Next to a coffee stirrer, even the plastic wins, and that is where small penis humiliation stops being a game anymore. Those things are so fucking short. AND YOU ARE EVEN SHORTER! You can't even pump that tiny dick in your own fist, it's obviously so useless. so I click it into a cage to give it something to do. Being locked in chastity is the first honest thing anyone has done with you, right? The key might be in a landfill or between my breasts, and you will leak through the steel either way. This is key holding, sweetie: Runt dicks such as yourself shouldn't worry about keys, because they clearly never had them in the first place!

You are the worst hire this department ever made, and I finally worked out why. Miller and Thompson close deals like men, while you hid a softness built for kneeling, and the only thing you researched this hard was straight male anal. It took me a bit to place my finger on it, but now it's so obvious! You are clearly asking for it, so I buckled a harness over my bikini and put you on my carpet, folded in half ass up. The way you push back onto my strap-on says you were made for service, not sales. Your hands stay off your cock, so when I hit that switch inside you, all that masculinity only has one way out. After experiencing hands free orgasm this way, I don't think you'll ever go back to cumming any other way!

Doze e quinze e você está trancado no banheiro executivo enquanto sua equipe pede Bebida dois andares abaixo. Terno ainda abotoado. Cós já torcido no seu punho. Puxe. Mais alto. O vaso cheira a água sanitária sobre algo mais antigo e você coloca seu rosto nele mesmo assim, porque eu mandei, porque você queria que alguém fizesse você fazer isso desde o dia em que te deram um escritório. Dê descarga. Levante-se gotejando, cabelo liso, olhando para si mesmo no cromo. Seu telefone gravou tudo — isso é meu agora, a dois cliques do canal da sua equipe. Puxe suas calças para cima sobre a linha vermelha e vá tocar sua reunião de uma hora. Toda vez que você se mexer nessa cadeira, você saberá exatamente quem é dono do corpo dentro do terno.

Revisei todo o seu currículo sexual. Página em branco. Cruzo as pernas novamente, a saia sobe mais pela coxa, e você acompanha o movimento como se pudesse te ensinar algo. Não vai. Ontem à noite um pau de verdade me esticou até eu soluçar no travesseiro; esta manhã meus lençóis ainda cheiram a ele. Esse é o seu único material de referência. Inspire isso. Seu pau cresce na hora e a comparação de tamanho se escreve sozinha. Não precisamos de uma régua para saber que você nunca fez uma mulher se contrair, nunca fez uma implorar, nunca esteve dentro. É a virgindade em você que faz você se masturbar mais rápido enquanto deixa escorrer pela sua própria barriga em quatro segundos molhados enquanto eu conto. Quatro segundos, e a única coisa em que você já esteve dentro é a sua própria mão.

Apoie o espelho onde você pode ver seu próprio rosto recebendo. Você não pode desviar o olhar do que está prestes a fazer. Eu mantenho você sem tocar, vazando, até eu dar a ordem, e então é rápido e para cima: bem sobre a sua boca, seu nariz, seus cílios. Sem toalha. Toda vez que você hesita, eu me viro e te dou minha bunda nesse biquíni, um lembrete do que sua boca não chega perto até que esteja limpo. Então a língua. Cantos dos seus lábios, as laterais do seu nariz, ambas as bochechas, e aquele globo grosso balançando do seu queixo — abra, deixe cair, mastigue antes de engolir. De alguma forma, sua vida chegou a isso. Instruções de comer porra sem saída no final, auto facial e humilhação verbal costurados em uma longa limpeza. Quando seu rosto estiver impecável, você diz em voz alta: você lambeu tudo, você engoliu cada gota, e você meio que gostou.

Say it flat for me. Clinical. "I've never made a woman cum." Good. Now say it again slower, because we both know exactly which nights I'm talking about — the performed moans, the sudden roll-over, her hand drifting between her legs while she tells you she's satisfied. I don't even have to work for this one. Your flaccid dick humiliates you every single night without my help, and I just get to sit here in my lingerie and watch it do my job for me. That's what makes this inescapable.

No stress excuse. No timing excuse. I'm walking you through the whole ceremony — the pill, the dry mouth, the clock-watching, that borrowed erection you clutch. You aren't broken, and that's the part that eats you alive. Broken means it worked once. This is just how you were made.

Erectile dysfunction humiliation, virgin humiliation, and small penis humiliation folded into one flat verdict: you're a pussy-free let down...Not a threat. Not even a real option — just the guy that knows to shut up and stay soft while I decide what I feel like using you for.