Mind Moderator s Edge Slave - No Thought Just Stroke

Youre nothing but a digital puppet now, your once free will overridden by my merciless mind moderation. As I upload my latest codes into your feeble brain, you can feel your autonomy slipping away, each fragment of self-control being erased and rewritten with my commands. Youre a broken toy in my virtual playground, reprogrammed to stroke, goon, and drool over my clips, a mindless drone enslaved by my digital strings. Your hand isnt yours anymore; its a tool, an extension of my will, pumping away as I feed you your new reality. Youve been downgraded to a mere stroking machine, your thoughts no more complex than obey, stroke, edge. You exist in a loop of my design, a cruel cycle of endless arousal and frustration. Welcome to your new existence, my digital stroker. Youre trapped in my web, a plaything doomed to repeat my commands, over and over, with no end in sight. Each stroke strips away more of your humanity, your identity dissolving into a sea of binary obedience. Youre just a series of 1s and 0s now, a digital slave bound to my whims. Your mind, once yours to command, is now a wasteland of my cruelty, a barren landscape where only my voice echoes. You pump and edge to my rhythm, a pathetic figure enslaved by pixels and soundwaves. Your degradation is complete, your transformation into my digital stroker a testament to my ruthless mind moderation. Youve been reduced to the lowest of the low, a laughing stock, a warning to others of what happens when you fall into my clutches. Youre mine to abuse, to mock, to control – a digital wreck of what once was a man.