You know what I love about you? The way you can't help but stare at your cock as you furiously stroke it, hating every second of it. You hate yourself for wanting this, for needing it. And you know what? The harder you hate yourself, the harder your dick gets. You're trapped in a cycle of self-loathing and sexual release, and you just can't seem to break free. You're addicted to the humiliation, the degradation, the way your skin crawls as I verbally tear you apart. You wish you could stop, but the more you hate yourself, the more you want it. You beg for it, crave it, can't get enough of it. And I know this. I know because I'm your worst nightmare and the one thing you can't escape from. Look at your cock, throbbing and pulsating with every ounce of frustration and self-hatred. Do you see it? Do you see the disgusting, pathetic monster that has control over you? You're at its mercy, a worthless piece of meat who would do anything to feel the release of pain and lust all in one.
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