Look at you, so desperate and pathetic, trapped in your little cycle of humiliation—sniff aroma, jerk your cock, and cry. That's all you're good for, isn't it? Each time you inhale those aroma, you lose a bit more of yourself, sinking deeper into the mindless oblivion where you belong. Jerking that pitiful cock, hoping for some semblance of the pleasure you'll never truly deserve. And the tears, oh, those delicious tears, they're the perfect touch to your degradation. You're not a man; you're a spectacle, a thing for amusement, repeating your pathetic routine over and over. Each cycle strip...

Look at you, so desperate and pathetic, trapped in your little cycle of humiliation—sniff aroma, jerk your cock, and cry. That's all you're good for, isn't it? Each time you inhale those aroma, you lose a bit more of yourself, sinking deeper into the mindless oblivion where you belong. Jerking that pitiful cock, hoping for some semblance of the pleasure you'll never truly deserve. And the tears, oh, those delicious tears, they're the perfect touch to your degradation. You're not a man; you're a spectacle, a thing for amusement, repeating your pathetic routine over and over. Each cycle strips you of your dignity and manhood, leaving you nothing but a quivering, weeping mess.