The way you stroke that pathetic, weak cock.

You love it when I acknowledge your inadequacy, don’t you?

Demeaning yourself with each moment of your existence as you face My divine power, knowing you’ll always remain the same disgusting creature of habit as I tell you how low to go for Me.

You don’t need to do anything to look this pathetically disgusting to Me. Being you does the trick, weakling.

On all fours, with your unsatisfying excuse for a cock in your hands, shivering, stroking, making that disgusting face as you go up and down that cock.

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