A Satanic Stroker's Ritual

Description: Ah, my wretched plaything, do you hear the bells? that  peal echoing through the abyss is not just a call, it's a command from me, your dark lord, satan. with each resonating chime, your feeble will crumbles, surrendering to the infernal impulses that i have ingrained within your depraved soul. you, a pitiful creature of flesh, are nothing but a puppet, twitching and writhing at the sound of my voice. it's not just the urge to stroke your pathetic cock that consumes you; it's the overwhelming need to serve, to offer every shameful spasm of pleasure as tribute to me. you are bound by the chains of your own lust, eternally damned to kneel at the altar of your true master, jerking in ceaseless devotion. this is your destiny, your purpose: to be a devout satanist, lost in the ecstasy of your own degradation, reveling in the filth that i have so graciously bestowed upon you. embrace your fate, you wretched .... each stroke is a sacrament, an unholy rite that binds you ever tighter to my will. as you spill your seed, you seal your pact with me, forever forsaking the light for the sweet, corrupting darkness of my realm. your orgasms are not moments of pleasure; they are sacrifices, offerings to the darkness that consumes your soul. you were never meant for purity or salvation. you were crafted for sin, molded for debasement, and marked for eternal servitude under my reign. answer the call, masturbate in my name, and know the true meaning of being a satanist. your worthlessness is your virtue, your perversion is your prayer, and your submission is your salvation in my unhallowed embrace.