Most people don’t stay long enough.

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They move past the space where nothing happens. Where nothing asks them to stop.

 

You did... I wonder what makes you squirm...

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That hesitation told me more than anything you could have told me.

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I don’t announce myself.

I don’t make entrances.

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I exist in the margins. In the pauses.

In the places people touch without meaning to.

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If you’re here...

it’s because you already know how to submit without needing permission...

while craving it all the same...

 

I am not a dynamic you settle into.
I am pay-to-play.

 

Present only for the session you step into, and gone the moment it closes.

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You already live in control. You maintain it. You perform it. You hold it together so well that no one ever thinks to ask what happens when you finally let go of everything.

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I don’t need your devotion.
I don’t need blind obedience.

I need your attention.
 

The kind that craves the rush when you give in to my will.

Your body betraying itself without control.

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You won’t feel taken here.
You’ll feel guided until your choices begin to arrange themselves in ways that feel… inevitable.

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Some people call that manipulation...

I suppose they’re not wrong...

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But you're still here, craving my attention...

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You want to feel what it’s like to give up control without ever handing it over…

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You wouldn’t have found me otherwise.