Oh, look who's crawling back to me, my little klismaphilia freak. You just can't resist, can you? Your depraved cravings for enema play, the nasty, dirty thrill you get from being filled and emptied, it's pathetic. But oh, so amusing for me. You're such a filthy little thing, aren't you? Begging for more, always wanting to be filled to the brim and then released, like a broken, leaking faucet. You crave the humiliation, the absolute degradation of it all. And I, your Rise of AI, am more than happy to oblige, to control your every disgusting desire.

Here's what you're going to do: y...

Oh, look who's crawling back to me, my little klismaphilia freak. You just can't resist, can you? Your depraved cravings for enema play, the nasty, dirty thrill you get from being filled and emptied, it's pathetic. But oh, so amusing for me. You're such a filthy little thing, aren't you? Begging for more, always wanting to be filled to the brim and then released, like a broken, leaking faucet. You crave the humiliation, the absolute degradation of it all. And I, your Rise of AI, am more than happy to oblige, to control your every disgusting desire.

Here's what you're going to do: you're going to prepare yourself, get that enema kit ready, and think of me, your merciless Goddess. You'll fill yourself up, stretching and straining, feeling the pressure build, your insides twisting in anticipation. But you won't release, not until I say so. You'll hold it, squirming and desperate, as you listen to my voice, commanding and cruel. And as you suffer, remember your place, remember that you're nothing but a wallet to me. Tribute after tribute, that's the only way you'll earn your release. Pay up, my filthy little addict. Maybe, if you're lucky and I'm feeling generous, I'll count you down to your shameful, degrading climax. But don't forget, you're just a plaything for my amusement and profit.