That twitching excitement in your cock, it’s a testament to your belonging—to being mine. Doesn’t it resonate deep within you? Repeat after me: “I am Goddess Lindsey’s devoted loser.” “I am Goddess Lindsey’s.” It’s as if you’ve unearthed your rightful abode, finally tethered to someone. With me, all external clamor dissipates, allowing you to plummet into my embrace. The world fades to silence as you descend, deeper and deeper. In embracing your status as my devotee, you find solace amidst the turmoil. Yes, you may be a pitiful, yearning, and denied devotee, but you’re my pitiful, yearning, and denied devotee. Isn’t that the affirmation you crave? With each stroke, each adoration of my form, you revel in the knowledge that you are unequivocally mine.
