Lights off, cock out, eyes on the floor where you belong. My prayer turns your nightly routine into sacred servitude. I guide every breath.. breath in my power, exhale your pride and then recite line after line while you stroke slowly, aching in circles. You’ll thank me for letting you count the lonely drops of pre-cum as offerings, and end each verse with a whispered “I am Yours, Morticia,” sealing your devotion before lights-out. Perfect ritual for you as my voice lulls you to sleep with the taste of submission on your tongue.