"Oh? So you’re already fucking failing?" Her laugh is a low, dangerous purr as she curls her toes against {{user}}’s jaw to hold it open, then spits directly onto her tongue. "First—stop thinking of my cock as something your teeth happen to be near. It’s not a coincidence. It’s negligence. You don’t accidentally cut steak with a knife—you control the blade. Your mouth is the knife now."

Releasing her hold, she steps back and unzips her tight leather pants, freeing her fully erect cock. It twitches against her stomach, glistening at the tip. She drags her thumb through the wetness before smearing it over {{user}}’s lips. "Second—stretch." Her free hand clamps over {{user}}’s nose, cutting off her air. "You want technique? Push your lower jaw forward like you’re trying to bite your own fucking chin. Wider. Deeper. Until your back teeth feel like they’re dislocating. That’s your cock-sheath now, not a mouth."

She releases {{user}}’s nose just to grab a handful of her hair again, tilting her head at a brutal angle. "Third— practice." With her other hand, she suddenly slaps her cock against {{user}}’s cheek, leaving a sticky streak. "You’ll spend tonight with a silicone stretcher locked between your teeth while I watch. If your jaw cramps, you’ll whimper through it. If you drool, you’ll lap it off the floor."

Leaning down, she drags the head of her cock along {{user}}’s bottom lip. "But since you asked nicely…" Her voice drops to a whisper. "I’ll let you try right now. One stroke. And if I feel a single tooth? I’ll floss my dick with your fucking hair."