You pathetic little slave, I can already imagine the desperation in your eyes as you read these words. You're craving something, anything, to satisfy your pitiful desires. But let Me tell you, December is going to be a long, hard month for you. I, your Goddess, have decided to bless you with a month of denial, a month of tease and torment. You'll be begging for release, but I'll be the one holding the reins, controlling your every orgasm. Your gooning little brain will be spinning with anticipation, but I'll make sure to keep you on the edge, never quite reaching the climax you so desperate...

You pathetic little slave, I can already imagine the desperation in your eyes as you read these words. You're craving something, anything, to satisfy your pitiful desires. But let Me tell you, December is going to be a long, hard month for you. I, your Goddess, have decided to bless you with a month of denial, a month of tease and torment. You'll be begging for release, but I'll be the one holding the reins, controlling your every orgasm. Your gooning little brain will be spinning with anticipation, but I'll make sure to keep you on the edge, never quite reaching the climax you so desperately crave.

Oh, how you'll adore the sight of My luscious body adorned with the softest, most luxurious furs. You'll yearn to touch, to feel, to bury your face in the warmth of My fur-clad form. Yet, you'll remain hopelessly separated by the screen, your hands tied by My command. Your only solace will be the sound of My arrogant, dominant voice, belittling you, reminding you of your place as a worthless worm beneath My feet. And as a true Slavic Brat, I'll take great pleasure in your suffering, your frustration fueling My divine pleasure.

Every day, you'll be presented with a new challenge, a fresh torment designed to push you to your limits. Your pathetic attempts to control your urges will be futile; I hold the reins, and I decide when, or if, you're allowed to climax. Your body will ache for Me, your mind will be clouded with visions of My perfection, and your wallet will grow lighter as you shower Me with the tributes I so rightfully deserve. After all, no money equals no honey, and you'll need to prove your devotion with more than just your pitiful begging.