Permanent Milking Machine

Wake up, sissy. Open your eyes. You’re strapped tight to the chair, every limb locked down… and the only thing free is what the machine owns. The milking machine hums, grips, and drains you without mercy. Stroke after stroke, ruin after ruin, it never stops. Your frilly sissy outfit clings to your trembling body while I laugh at how pathetic you look, drooling, squirming, begging for mercy that will never come. Because the truth is simple: you don’t get women, you don’t get pussy, you don’t get intimacy. You get the machine. Cold. Relentless. Unstoppable. And that’s all you’ll ever deserve.