Your task for today is to make it through reading this entire document without coming.
Sounds easy, you say. It's just a page. Or two. Do I think you have no control?
Of course, I'm going to be stroking your cock as you read.
Feel it? My soft hand. Wrapped around your cock. Slippery with the lube I applied just a moment ago?
See my pretty polish? Black. My winter color. Such a contrast against your pale cock, although I think that even now as the blood is flowing in, it's turning an ever more solid shade of pink or purple.
You can do it. I know you can. You're my good boy.
Say it. "I'm your good boy. I can follow directions. I can be obedient."
See. I know you.
I know you want to make it because I gave you clear instructions, even though part of you knows I don't. Part of me wants you to fail because then I know I have complete control over you.
You couldn't do it. You couldn't resist me.
Let's see what side wins out.
You can look. You can take a peek over the screen if you want to see one finger teasing the head of your cock in that special place. You know the one. Right there. That place where I can just gently stroke a half of an inch in either direction and soon you'll be leaking for me. Moaning.
There it is. Isn't it? Right there.
Can you feel the anticipation starting to build? Your cock starting to twitch in my grasp, trying in vain to thrust, if only I would let it. Maybe a little droplet of pre-cum sliding out of the hole, running down your shaft like a little tear of joy.
You can thrust for me, baby. Just a little. I don't mind humoring you. You can pretend it's my pussy you're fucking, or my mouth. After all, it's so close. I could just lean down and....
...well, don't get ahead of yourself.
Go on. Thrust for me. Hump my hand. You're getting desperate enough to do it now. Aren't you? Even though you know you look vaguely ridiculous. Straining upwards. Biting your lip. Humping my hand like my eager pet and concentrating hard dying to get there and trying to hold back because I told you.