Oh, you pathetic l*ttle thing. You see this? This is perfection. This is the *ss you dream about, the one you’d empty your pathetic bank account just to sn*ff. And today, you’re going to worship it.

First, you’re going to prove your devotion. Get on your knees. I don’t care if you’re at your desk, on your bed, or in the bathroom. Kneel.

Look at it. That’s everything you’ll never deserve. Now, lean in close to your screen. I want you to imagine the scent. The heat. The weight of my perfect *ss on your worthless face. Stick your tongue out. Yes, all the way out, you drooling l*ttle dog. I want you to l*ck the air right now. L*ck it like you’re l*cking the sweat from my perfect cr*ck after a long day at the gym.

You’d give anything for one real taste, wouldn’t you? You’d drain your savings for a single drop of my sweat. Tell me. Out loud. "I am a pathetic *ss-worshipper, Goddess Gwen." Say it!

Good boy. Now, you may take out your tiny, useless c*ck. But you will only stroke with your tongue-wet hand. The same hand you just drooled all over for my *ss. That’s the only lube you deserve. Start stroking. Slowly. Match the rhythm of my hips.

That’s it. Stroke that pathetic l*ttle d*ck to my perfect *ss. Your only purpose is to get hard for this. To edge for this. To drain for this. You’re nothing but a wallet and a hard-on for me. Now, stroke faster. I’m riding your face and you’re loving every second of

Look at you, a desperate, leaky mess. You don’t get to c*m until you’ve shown me your devotion. That l*ttle edge was just a taste. Now, you’re going to send for your Goddess. Go to my tip menu. Pick one. A silent send of $20 just to thank me for letting you look at my *ss. Do it. I’ll wait.

Is it done? Good. Maybe you’re slightly less pathetic than I thought. Now, for your reward. You get to drain those worthless b*lls for me. Start stroking again. Fast. Don’t you dare close your eyes. You keep them locked on my *ss. This is the only thing that will ever make you c*m again.

Stroke that d*ck. Imagine it’s my strap-on, and you’re f*cking yourself for my amusement. You’re nothing but a set of h*les for me. A wallet. A toy. Say it. "I’m your toy, Goddess Gwen."

C*m for me, NOW! Drain every last drop for my perfect *ss. Let me see that pathetic, sticky mess you’ve made for your Goddess.

Look at the mess you’ve made. Disgusting. Now, clean it up. L*ck your hand clean. Every single drop. That’s your protein for the day, you worthless l*ttle c*m-sl*t. Do it.

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