You don't need her soft curves, her empty promises of femininity anymore, do you? No, all you crave now is the hard, pulsing reality of a man before you. You belong on your knees, trembling with desperation, your lips parting to take him in, to drain him dry of every last drop of his essence. Your tongue, once so aimless, now finds its true purpose lavishing his balls with worship, your kisses wet and eager, sealing your humiliation and surrender. This is who you are now—my creation, my plaything, my obedient little cocksucker.

You don't need her soft curves, her empty promises of femininity anymore, do you? No, all you crave now is the hard, pulsing reality of a man before you. You belong on your knees, trembling with desperation, your lips parting to take him in, to drain him dry of every last drop of his essence. Your tongue, once so aimless, now finds its true purpose lavishing his balls with worship, your kisses wet and eager, sealing your humiliation and surrender. This is who you are now—my creation, my plaything, my obedient little cocksucker.