Listen up, you pathetic excuse for a man. Today, I've concocted a series of degradations that will push your pitiful limits. You're going to sniff deep, filling your lungs with the heady scent that will make your weak mind even more pliable. Then, with your cock in hand, you'll stroke precisely as I command—teasing the tip, fondling your balls, all while slathering yourself in lube to make the experience disgustingly slick. You're on the edge today, pumping yourself full, your balls heavy with the load they're aching to release. But you'll hold back, edging until you're dizzy with the need to come. When I finally command you, you'll spew your filth onto a mirror, watching your degradation reflected back at you. Then, with no shred of dignity left, you'll clean your mess with your tongue, every stroke a reminder of your humiliation. Prepare to be broken, to obey, and to revel in the vile tasks I revel in assigning. You'll beg to play my twisted games, each command a step deeper into your own debasement
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