I will make you squirm and sweat as you fixate on the screen, your eyes glued to the parade of dominant cocks. Your arousal is palpable, but it's irrelevant to me. What matters is your submission, your compliance to my ruthless commands. Stroke, because I said so, feel your pitiful shaft attempting to mimic the alphas on display. You're a joke, a mere shadow of a man, offering your pathetic worship to these icons of masculinity. Your hand moves, not out of pleasure, but out of obedience, a testament to your degradation. You're a junkie for this debasement, craving the sting of my scorn. You...

I will make you squirm and sweat as you fixate on the screen, your eyes glued to the parade of dominant cocks. Your arousal is palpable, but it's irrelevant to me. What matters is your submission, your compliance to my ruthless commands. Stroke, because I said so, feel your pitiful shaft attempting to mimic the alphas on display. You're a joke, a mere shadow of a man, offering your pathetic worship to these icons of masculinity. Your hand moves, not out of pleasure, but out of obedience, a testament to your degradation. You're a junkie for this debasement, craving the sting of my scorn. Your climax? It's under my control, a remote possibility dangling by the thread of my whims. You're a spectacle of desperation, a puppet in my sadistic game, stroking, stopping, edging on command, forever denied the release you so desperately crave. Your existence, defined by your subjugation to my will, is a relentless cycle of frustration and submission. You're nothing more than an object of my amusement, a plaything in this twisted scenario I've crafted just for you.