With every syllable that escapes My soft, pink lips, you notice your skin becomes more and more sensitive. A slight breeze would stand hairs on the back of your neck. You're throbbing, desperate for Me to control your strings and jerk you mindlessly. Nobody takes you out of reality like I do. Every detailed drawn out stroke pulls you deeper under My bliss. It feels so dangerously good to succumb to My sweet, int0xicating voice. All you want is to goon for Ivy forever. While under My mental control, I (temporarily) glue your hand to your cock, cementing your fate as My strokedrone.