Compliments Cost You

Description: You want to stroke? compliment me. you want to breathe? make it worth my time. in compliments cost you, you’re not in control—you never were. i’m the center of your universe…and the only way to earn permission is to please me with your words. stroke? no. speak? only if it’s praise attached with pay. flattery is your currency now—and i’m always raising the price. every pause is a test. a decoy. a chance to worship…or a reason to suffer. tell me how perfect i am. how you ache just to be acknowledged. how my voice ruins your self-control. and if you can’t impress me? if your tongue fumbles or your tribute falls flat? then you wait. caged. silenced. denied. this isn’t about your pleasure—it’s about your purpose. your use is conditional. your worth? measured in compliments and cash. so go ahead. pay up, and say something nice. or sit there—hard, humiliated, and unheard.