There you are, a pathetic, sniveling wreck, hunched over your precious bottle of aroma. Each inhale makes you weaker, more pliable, more desperate. You can't resist the commands in the audio, the cruel, degrading instructions that you follow so eagerly. With every touch, every stroke, you sink deeper into your new reality as a gay, a toy for others to use and punishmen. Your fingers probe your own hole, a pitiful attempt at self-pleasure, but it's all you deserve, isn't it? You're just a filthy, aroma-addicted slut, and each sniff only cements your status further.

The audio plays o...

There you are, a pathetic, sniveling wreck, hunched over your precious bottle of aroma. Each inhale makes you weaker, more pliable, more desperate. You can't resist the commands in the audio, the cruel, degrading instructions that you follow so eagerly. With every touch, every stroke, you sink deeper into your new reality as a gay, a toy for others to use and punishmen. Your fingers probe your own hole, a pitiful attempt at self-pleasure, but it's all you deserve, isn't it? You're just a filthy, aroma-addicted slut, and each sniff only cements your status further.

The audio plays on a loop, a never-ending cycle of humiliation and degradation. "Touch yourself, gay," it commands, and you obey, your hands moving on autopilot. "Finger yourself, slut," it continues, and you comply, pushing your own boundaries, degrading yourself further. You're lost in a haze of aroma and self-humiliation, each breath making you more addicted, more eager to please. You're nothing but a plaything, a gay for the amusement of others, and deep down, you know this is exactly where you belong.