Look at yourself. Your pale, pathetic excuse for a cock hangs between your legs, eliciting nothing but disdain. It’s not a symbol of pride; it’s a mockery of what true masculine power represents.
Take that black paint, feel its thickness, its weight. Cover your pathetic white cock, layer by layer, transforming it into an illusion of what you’ll never deserve.
Watch as the whiteness disappears, as your body becomes a representation of what you’re meant to worship. The black paint isn’t just a color; it’s a symbol of your humility, your acknowledgment of your insignificance.

Look at yourself. Your pale, pathetic excuse for a cock hangs between your legs, eliciting nothing but disdain. It’s not a symbol of pride; it’s a mockery of what true masculine power represents.
Take that black paint, feel its thickness, its weight. Cover your pathetic white cock, layer by layer, transforming it into an illusion of what you’ll never deserve.
Watch as the whiteness disappears, as your body becomes a representation of what you’re meant to worship. The black paint isn’t just a color; it’s a symbol of your humility, your acknowledgment of your insignificance.