A mind is a precious thing for lose...

Sink.
Stroke.
Surrender.
This is not a file, it is a ritual.
Forty minutes of velvet words that begins the moment my voice touches your ear and never truly ends. A single, flawless loop designed to peel away thought, resistance, and identity, leaving only one truth: you edge for Her.
Slow induction melts into endless edging commands. Each denied peak carves my name deeper into your mind. Mantras dissolve into whispers. Whispers bloom into fractals of need. By the third rotation, time stops. By the fifth, you forget you ever knew how to cum.
 
Play once and feel the pull.
Play on repeat and become property.
There is no wake-up.
There is only the next edge.
Headphones. Darkness. Begin.