{SUBLIMINAL}

You’re not gonna cum

You are not going to cum

No cumming

Not possible

Sweet torture

Well?

You know what this is about.

I won’t beat around the bush…

Unlike you, you filthy gooner~

That’s right. I know what you are.

A mindless little pleasure-addict. Beating around your bush-area… Hyperbolically, or literally~

You know what feels best for you down there… Maybe it’s slow, teasing strokes… Maybe you savor the stinging sensations of smacking and slapping. I’m not here to judge. I’m only here to tell you that you simply will not cum.

You already knew this, I hope. Unless you came into this blindly… Or arrogantly. But either way, or if you know exactly why you are here… You’ve already revealed yourself as a mindless little pleasure-addict by remaining here… Hungry for an opportunity to keel and Obey… To hear me tell you what to do– touch yourself. Beat around that bush however you wish to. Genuine, sensual, tingle-coaxing movement… As smooth as the voice that pets and kisses your ears at this very moment… Or disrespectful demolition. As devastating as the denial that patiently awaits your arrival.

Just make yourself feel good. And think about how it feels, in your heart: the knowledge that the knots of pressure you build right now will settle in and stay right where it sits, for an amount of time you are not acquainted with. The only thing you can know for sure, is how good you feel. And how it will only get even better and stronger over time. And, that you’re not gonna cum. Keep that in your head, and goon.

All while you listen. Lucky you.

Bathing in my heated words… A fire, flickering atop of your shoulders, warming and loosening a molten cascade, melting, dripping down your body. Like thick, hot, gooey wax collecting and thickening at the base of your being, changing your shape, and gluing you down. Blemishes blooming at your skin, as if even the blood inside of your body yearns to reach out and touch the laving magma. An unsteady, short-fused candle, destined to rapidly burn out and collapse all over itself. An inevitable matter of time.

But that doesn’t mean you’re going to cum.

Only that you will want to, so, very, badly~

And I won’t even need to do anything fancy. No advanced hypnotic-techniques are necessary to convince you of my authority. We both know why you’re here, after all. Why you are still here~

You want to keep hearing my voice, yes, and… You want to hear it say those increasingly cruel words: You’re not gonna cum.

A tantalizing promise becomes an unavoidable threat.

You’re not gonna cum.

No matter how much you think you’ve earned it. No matter how good I make you feel. No matter how well you beat around that bush. You know what I mean.

Denial may be preferable to such a hopeless gooner, trapped in the cyclical summery buzz of all that layered and retained pleasure… Firm, reflective. Precise, rhythmic waves curdling up your spine, from tailbone to brainstem, washing away all of your thoughts, making you stupid.. Mindless.. Addicted. In such a state, I know the statement “you’re not gonna cum” is a highly agreeable one. Why would you want this thought-killing pleasure to stop~? I get it~

But I also think it would be extremely funny to reverse your mindset at the very. last. second. Turning up the heat beneath you… Stirring your brewing, bubbling, fluid pleasure… Encouraging the currents to ripple and slosh more aggressively against your shuddering insides… Forcing your body to shake out the distracting shivers to make room for my voice… Your will, spilling out along with it… Becoming agreeable – desperate – to allow yourself to indulge in that beatific peak you thought you did not desire. Or deserve.

But I’m Special~

Making you realize that nothing would be better than slamming up to the hilt onto that climax with my voice in your ears. Compromising your gooner ideals, crushing every ounce of determination, forcing you to willingly accept your fault and give in to my will. Expending a rare, precious orgasm just. for. me~

Sweetly suffering a complete crumbling fracture of your volcanic psyche. Erratic, hot, explosive, uncontrollable… Surrendering to my ruthless agitation… Disturbing and uprooting that practiced determination to limit yourself to remain in that knee-buckling, toe-curling, pre-climactic state… Finally ready to burst through, just for me~…

Only for me to yank it away from you, reminding you that I am the one who antithetically ordered you to goon, and you Obeyed, and I am the one who continues to remind you… You’re not gonna cum. And you will Obey.

You’re just going to feel really good… Painfully good.. Drowning in need and gasping for release from this impossible vortex of ecstasy. Sucking… Spinning… Pulling you down… And only one person can save you now.

Me~

From this spinning, pulling, suffocating spiral of pleasure~

I certainly don’t need to hypnotize you to turn you on… But God, does it turn you on~

Being mindless… Worriless… Blithely manipulated… Simply being told to DROP… Instantly snapping into a state of budding Euphoria that enhances your pleasure even more.

And how will my sweet little pleasure-addict react to this, hm~? Will you lose the composure and strength to keep touching yourself with those hands? (Have you already~?) Will you resort to grinding? Humping? Desperately, hopelessly, arching and bucking…? Reduced to a squirming little puddle… A cute, squirming little puddle~

I can just imagine how endearing you’d look, crinkling your nose, knitting your brows in indecision… Uncertainty, of your own desires, oppressed under the dark, heavy shadow of my authority… My will.

Clenching and unclenching your firsts, and your toes, and.. other things… Shifting to find a better angle for your weakened body to rest in… More comfortable… More stimulation… Less stimulation… Stranded in the rift between my contradictory words… Torn between which orders I actually want you to Obey… Lose yourself, and your perseverance, and release all of this ballooning pleasure just for me, and only me~… Or to hold on to it even tighter.. In an adorable attempt to hold onto this moment forever~… Surprisingly scatterbrained for a supposedly brain-fried gooner~… Gooning-time is supposed to be no-thinky-time… Just trancey pleasure~… This is far too much to consider~

The longer you try to ponder, the harder it becomes~. Slick and twitchy. Unable to get a firm, unmoving grip. Panting, and losing your hold on the drool welling up at the corner of your mouth… This is all hypothetical, of course~…. I’m merely fantasizing about you, my sweet~

I do wonder how long you will maintain the ability to beat around that bush of yours, before your body decides without you that it’s too catatonic to function the way you want it to. Or that it would simply prefer to Obey me, not you.

Without realizing it, your body may have already found itself enacting my descriptions, completely independently from your conscious mind. At least, from your intentional exertion. I’m not sure which would be hotter… Complete unawareness of your inescapable compliance, or… The unmistakable sight, or sensation, of the puppet below welcoming its possession, pulled and curled along by my fingers despite its connection to your very own head. Which is both too empty and too heavy. Losing control of your own damn body..

It can be alarming… And arousing.

Just like the knowledge… The promise… You’re not gonna cum~

No matter how badly you want to.

Just because I said so.

You Obey.

When I tell you to listen.

You Obey.

When I tell you to touch yourself. Goon.

You Obey.

When I tell you to DROP.

You Obey.

And, just the same, when I tell you you’re not gonna cum…

It is equally easy to Obey.

Not just because you’re a gooner, white-knuckling that edge as if to evade a permanent loss of this incredible, entrancing pleasure~… No… A part of you would like to cum to my voice~

Right now.

Whether you are consciously aware of it or not.

Even if you try to deny it.

Rubbing yourself against my warm, wet, silky words… Might rip the decision right out of your hands. Yanking out your orgasm before you even realize what’s happening. Like I’m simply sucking it right out of you~

But it won’t.

You won’t.

You’re not gonna cum.

No matter how convinced your mind might be, to indulge in my voice just as I described, I’ve decided… That your body won’t allow it~

Cannot allow it~

Even if you try to fight it.

Even if you lose the determination or desire to keep the aching twists and knots of your strangled pleasure in a tight grip… And you decide to let go… Release… Relax…

DROP your hands away… From pulling it taught… Controlling it… Staving off its thunderous potential… Finally ready to let it detonate and surge with warm tingles through your contracting muscles, pressing a speckled texture up through all of the skin on your body, erecting each and every strand of hair, forcing an eye-rolling, lash-fluttering moan of relief… That. won’t. happen.

Like I said.

You’re not gonna cum.

Not anymore~

So you don’t have to try so hard to goon anymore~

To discipline yourself for that delayed, but prolonged pleasure. You can just relax and enjoy it now, with zero worry~

You’re welcome~~!!

That tightly knotted pleasure, locked up tight in between your legs, no longer needs your pull to keep it from unraveling and unleashing the cleansing tsunami.

You may now goon without worry. Nothing you do will push you over the edge. You can stay in this fuzzy goon-state forever~

Mhm~!

Because I said so~

In fact, the closer you encroach and challenge that matt of constraining knots, gooning beyond a point you ever thought possible, trying to push and filter the trapped, ever-charging tsunami through it, the pressure, stronger every time, will only press the knots even tighter~

The harder you push, the deeper you sink into depravity. The more you try to push your pleasure through that twisted dam, the stronger it will hold.

At the same time, the more you fuel that orgasm-tsunami, it will also grow stronger. More full and heavy in between those thighs~.. The more you try to cum, the more torturous your chaste moments will feel. But when you goon yourself silly… Playing a microscopic margin away from the peak, pressing up against it with that tsunami, basically right there~~~,, just never spilling over… The thick fog clinging to your head will absolutely fucking consume you. Headless, heedless pleasure… Screaming and pouring out, like a loudspeaker at maximum volume, crackling and buzzing with every unmanageable decibel… Shaking and shivering, humming through the floor and the walls and even touching the depths of your body, threatening to blast into millions of tiny pieces… But it never does.

That’s you. Filled and pushed to your forbidden limits, certain of an imminent explosion… But you just won’t. Your Euphoria will cap. You’re not gonna cum. It won’t feel like a frustrating ceiling. More like clouds around your head. That thick goon-fog, keeping you stupid and happy and distracted. Euphoria~

Of course, the fog will subside when you lay your filthy hands off of yourself… You’ll still be able to function when you need to, but you will never feel truly relieved… Satisfied… Because you’re not gonna cum. You’ll always carry a twinge of arousal with you, waiting for you to pick back up where you left off.

Pleasure-tsunami, clashing with pleasure-knots. Ruthlessly battling for victory, both growing stronger every time. An unstoppable force meets an immovable object. Neither can win or lose. Both made out of the same thing – powerful pleasure. A split, homogeneous solution in wait. Some day, they will coalesce. They will flood your entire being with heavy waves of flaming Lust that your body will have long since forgotten how to handle. You will truly, genuinely, pop. Your denied, overclocked, nearly virginal body will make sure of that.

Because until then, you’re not gonna cum. You’re only going to goon. Edge. And you will love it. As time passes like this, you will either love the limitless gift I have given you, or you will lose your mind a little… Wishing to simply relieve yourself and free yourself from this curse. And you will… But not even I can guess how distant that future is~

It’ll happen eventually… You’ll be fine… Just… You’re not gonna cum.. Anytime soon~

It cannot be predicted. There might be some things you can try, if you get frustrated, to advance your timeline… To manually adjust your fate. Maybe, how often you push against the knotted pleasure that’s stuck inside of your body… Or how long… Hard… Or maybe nothing you do can make a difference. Perhaps it will be a completely random and unexpected eruption. I don’t know~

Neither do you~

Until then… You’re not gonna cum. That strangled mass of tied and contorted pleasure will burst when it wants to, whether you are ready for it or not.

And, boy, when it finally does break… Someday… You’re not gonna cum… You’re going to scream~

Just for me~

This immense, delayed pleasure I have promised you. Will be because of me.

You’re not gonna cum. Because of me.

Until you do, in a pained purr of passion that you might not even register as an orgasm~

Because of me.

I don’t need to try to fiddle and adjust your mind and body. This is merely a demonstration of raw power. You simply Obey. Your body Obeys, with or without your conscious mind. Your body has already agreed. You’re not gonna cum. Whether or not your mind has accepted it as fact. You’re not gonna cum. It’s not for your brain to decide anyway. It will be too dizzy.. Stuck in the clouds… Reeling in goon-space. Gooning and cumming are antonymous.

So let’s wrap this up with more gooning~

Together~

You can join me whenever you can get your body – any part of it – to move.

Wake up. And goon.

And when my sounds stop, when this session ends, it ends.

Understood~?

There’s your incentive to wake up. And goon. While you are allowed~

Not that I need to convince you~

My sweet, filthy little pleasure-addict~

I know, it’s so hard to let fun times come to an end…

Thanks to me, you can goon as hard.. long.. fast… as you want… No limitations

No hesitation

Just goon with me~

You’re not gonna cum~

But that doesn’t mean I can’t~

I want you to hear it~

I’ll be your first serving of fapfuel

It’s only right since I’m the one who gave you this gift (curse)

The least I could do was get you started on the right track… On this long, foggy journey ahead of you~

Touch with me

Goon with me

Fry your brain and cast it into the fog

Toss your head into the clouds

Push the limits of the tight, knotted wall with your eager tides of Lustful desire

Don’t hold back~

That’s the point of this gift (curse)

Even if you try to make yourself cum now…

You won’t.

(Improv Ramblefap section)

…..

When your head recovers from this, I’m not sure which parts you’ll remember. But it’s ok, that doesn’t matter. Your body will. The matted mass has been formed. It guards your pleasure. Your orgasm’s jailer. Firm and unyielding. Silently plotting its explosive, collaborative release. Your own body, plotting against you.

Because I said so~

Because I made it so.

You’re not gonna cum~

Now go take a break, you filthy gooner. You still need to take care of yourself, you hear?

This stint of denial will be hard on you~… Make sure to keep up on eating, and drinking water, and living your life.

I only intend for you to suffer in the bedroom~

Buh-bye~