The moment you are locked, the noise falls away, the bravado, the insistence that you command yourself, the fragile fantasy of autonomy. What remains is the truth: desire stripped to its core, trembling and obedient.
 

You are kept on the edge not to suffer,

but to remember.

Remember who holds the power you pretend to own.

Remember what your body becomes when permission is no longer yours to give.

 

Chastity is not the absence of release.

It is the presence of Me.