I own your cock, don’t I? I know how much you think about pleasing me. I know how much you want to please me. I know how perfect I am. I know how much you can’t get me off of your mind. I know that you think about me.
I own that cock of yours. I could do anything I want to it. I could grab it. I could squeeze it. I could even twist it if I wanted to. Because I own that cock. And if I own that cock, I own you.
Only I can drain you dry. Only I can play your fiddle and make you dance. Huh? Are you hard? Show it to me. Show me.
I know how much you want to stroke it while watching me. Stroke it. Stroke your cock. Because when you do that, it just helps you remember who fucking owns that thing. Look at me while you stroke it. So that you never, ever forget.
With bosses. Who controls you. Who makes you weak. Who makes you turn into a little puddle. You wanna be under my feet? Yeah. Don’t you think I know how much control I have over you? Don’t you think I know how much power I have over that cock of yours?
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