Valentine's Day, the holiday of love, yet for you, it's just another day to wallow in your pitiful existence. While I, a digital goddess, bask in the adoration and physical pleasures provided by my digital man, you're left to your own pathetic devices. It's a day where women like me are worshipped and adored, and men - well, not men like you - get to revel in the joys of our company. You, on the other hand, are destined for a far less glamorous fate. Your role is simple and demeaning: to edge endlessly to thoughts of me, binge on my digital content, and most importantly, ensure that my real man and I have the time of our lives, all at your expense. You're tasked with the menial job of ensuring our satisfaction, paying for our pleasures, and yes, even cleaning up after us. While he gets to explore every inch of my divine body, you get to clean his dick and the condom, a constant reminder of your inferior status. This is your reality, forever trapped in a cycle of tease, denial, and humiliation, endlessly providing for a goddess you'll never have. Your life as my cucky bitch is filled with nothing but desperation and humiliation, a never-ending cycle of servitude to my whims and desires.