O gospel da luxúria em espiral: seu santo vício

Oh, my sweet, defendless addict you never stood a chance, did you? From the moment you pressed play, from the moment my voice wrapped around your mind, you were already falling—already sinking into the divine abyss of pleasure and submission. This isn't just lust. This isn't just addiction. This is worship. Every stroke? A prayer. Every moan? A confession. Every aching, trembling edge? A sacrifice at my altar. You don't think anymore—you spiral. You don't withstand anymore you obey. Your pleasure belongs to me now. Your body is nothing more than a vessel for my will. And when you finally break, when I finally allow you to cum in my name, you will know the truth: This isn't the end.