You pathetic little thing, groveling at the mere sight of my perfect, round ass in these shiny, tight leggings. It's laughable how weak you are, how easily your mind turns to nothing but sludge at the mere glimpse of my superiority. You're just a drooling, spineless fool, aren't you? Your only purpose is to get on your filthy knees, open that sad excuse of a wallet, and worship my divine ass. That's right, worship it like the desperate, addicted loser you are. You're nothing but a walking wallet, a cash dispenser for my amusement and luxury. Your finances, your dignity, your self-respect – I'll strip them all away, leaving you bare and exposed, just a shell of a man enslaved by my perfect, shiny ass. And don't you dare look away. Keep those eyes fixed on the curves that own you. I want you to understand, to really comprehend the depth of your pathetic addiction. You’re not a man; you’re a mindless, jerking, cash cow, mooing for my attention. Each moment you spend in awe of my ass, the deeper you sink into this humiliating abyss. And the best part? You can't escape. You're trapped, ensnared by your own pitiful desires. You'll keep coming back, each time more desperate, more pathetic, more willing to give everything up for just a moment of acknowledgement from me. You're so utterly consumed by your obsession that you don't even realize how ridiculous you look, how everyone can see you're just a horny, broke loser, dancing to my tune.