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"Oh, it's genuinely pitiful, isn't it?" I taunt, my voice laced with the cruel humor of an ice-cold dominatrix. "Look at you, desperately hanging onto each vicious word I spew. You're like a pathetic moth drawn to the destructive flame, captivated, unable to turn away. Writhing, your body shivers at the echo of every humiliating remark, your cock pulsating, consumed by an abhorrent pleasure. You're an exhibition of grotesque lust, a depraved creature, shamelessly lusting for the very things that degrade and diminish you." "But let's unveil the real horror here," I press on, a venomous grin tugging at my lips. "This... this is what you yearn for, isn't it? This perversion, this shame, it's your lifeline. The disdain, the contempt, it's what satisfies that sick hunger eating away at you. It's repugnant, truly, the way you savor your own belittlement, your own debasement. Every crude insult, every mocking chuckle, it's all sustenance for your vile fantasies. Isn't that why you're here?