You’d do anything for one more hit, wouldn’t you? One more breath… one more glance… one more second near my cock…And you’d sell your soul to stay here, on your knees, high on poppers and my control. Pull back slightly, watching you gasp for air, desperate for another whiff. Pathetic. But I adore how weak you are for me. So here’s your reward…Press the strapon against your cheek, dragging it slowly. Smell it. Worship it. Kiss the base like it’s the only thing keeping you alive. Because it is, isn’t it, pet? Without me… without this… you’re nothing.
