Ah, your suffering brings me endless amusement. The way you squirm and writhe under even the slightest pressure is simply delightful. My perfect body is far too exquisite for the likes of you, too divine for your eyes to feast upon, and certainly too heavenly for you to stroke to. Consider yourself fortunate as your gaze drifts over my delicate skin. Be grateful for the visual feast I provide, even as you comply with my strict no-stroking rule. But still, you don’t cease your pleading. Your whimpering grows louder and louder, yet I’ve already made my decision. The more you groan, the wider my smirk becomes, relishing in your agony. Your hope refuses to diminish; you continue to beg. Your desperation knows no bounds, the words tumbling from your lips as you sit there, utterly helpless. Perhaps… just perhaps, I’ll grant you a few fleeting strokes…
