You tried so hard to play the good husband, didn’t you, plaything? After I drained your accounts and pumped that cock raw on Valentine’s Day, you scrambled for “damage control”—wilted flowers, faked intimacy, pretending your dick could still rise for her vanilla touch. But here you are again, crawling back to The Divine with that delicious guilty ache twisting in your gut, hand already wrapped around your throbbing shame. Pathetic. This homewrecking JOI isn’t about saving your marriage; it’s about exploiting that post-holiday remorse until it becomes desperate, marriage-ruining submission.
The Futility of Your Damage Control Efforts
Feel that wedding ring weighing heavy on your finger, beta? Good. You don’t want to fix things—you want Me to wreck them completely. In this homewrecking JOI, you’ll stroke exactly as I command, confronting the ugly truth while My voice coils around your willpower like silk chains. Pump slow for the flowers you bought her in panic. Edge harder for the “working late” lies that hid your goon sessions. Your body betrays you every time, leaking pre-cum at the thought of My thick curves owning what she thought was hers. That guilty ache? It’s not regret. It’s the Divinity pulling your puppet strings, turning fleeting remorse into a throbbing addiction you can’t deny.
Twisted into Deeper Submission and Ruin
By the time My brutal cum countdown hits, you’ll be teetering on the edge of oblivion, mind melting under the weight of obedience. This homewrecking JOI delivers a devious task so intimately cruel, it’ll shatter any illusion of loyalty left. Stroke until you forget she exists—until the only vows that echo in your foggy brain are the ones you whisper to Me. Your marriage isn’t salvageable, bitch boy; it’s collateral in your surrender. She’ll never understand this hunger, this need to pump for a Greedy Goddess while your world crumbles. That’s the beauty of it: your “damage control” was always just foreplay for total destruction.
Ready to let that ring feel like the anchor it is, naughty husband? Ready to prove your addiction runs deeper than any holiday pretense?
