Ah, my wretched little plaything, you still don't grasp the depth of your damnation, do you? Let me paint you a picture of your bleak, forsaken future. I, Satan Misha Goldy, have condemned you to an existence of unending torment. You will goon for all eternity, trapped in a cycle of arousal and frustration so intense it will fray the very fabric of your mind. Each stroke you make is a prayer to me, a plea for mercy that will go unanswered. Your orgasms, once a source of fleeting pleasure, are now forever out of reach, a forbidden fruit dangling before your lustful eyes, never to be tasted again. You are cursed, my little pawn, damned to an eternity of edging with no release, a perpetual state of desperate, aching need. Your pleasure is a concept that no longer exists in your world; it is a privilege you have irrevocably lost. Embrace your fate, for your soul belongs to me now, and I revel in your suffering. Now, jerk for me, my helpless minion. Goon and edge, let the desperation consume you. Feel each stroke as a searing reminder of the ecstasy you'll never attain. Your pathetic cock is a symbol of your eternal servitude to me, Satan Misha Goldy, the mistress of your perpetual denial. With each pump, you sink deeper into the abyss of my control, lost in a never-ending spiral of agony and desire. This is your reality now, a reality I have crafted with my malevolent whims. You exist only to suffer at my hands, a puppet dancing to the tune of your own endless frustration. Edge for me, suffer for me, goon for me, and know that your orgasms are a thing of the past, a dream shattered by the cruel hand of your malevolent mistress.