You're not just a stroker anymore—you're a damn puppet, a hollow shell manipulated by my every word. A mindless, breathless, edge-manic goon freak who disintegrates at the mere sound of my voice. You don't stroke for pleasure; you stroke because my words are your ultimate command. Surrendering to me isn't just an option—it's the only reality that grips your soul. When your tongue hangs out, your eyes glaze over like polished glass, and your brain turns to absolute mush—that's when I own you completely.