I’m not so mean at the beginning. Sure I’m laughing at you, making fun of you, but it’s just a little playful teasing. You can take it. In fact, you kind of like it. You’re even getting turned on, aren’t you? Then the humiliation escalates…just a little bit. My teasing turns into taunting. My words sharpen so slightly that you barely notice. Does it hurt? Not yet. Not when you’re stroking so hard, when you’re blinded by my tits and ass, by my smiling face laughing sweetly. Am I laughing with you? Or at you? It doesn’t matter. You like it when I make you feel pathetic, when I take pleasure in showing you just how pathetic you can be for me. And then the verbal degradation notches up a level. The psychological pain is starting to set in, but I’ve eased you in so gently that you barely notice how deeply I’m fucking you over. I’m not done with you yet. I keep going. Humiliating you just a little bit harder. Pulling you just a little bit deeper down the humiliation rabbit hole with each word. Fucking your ego, inch by inch. Am I getting meaner? And meaner? I can’t help it. It feels good to be mean to you. It turns me on to bully you. Am I making you cry? Good. You deserve it. You’re starting to understand that, aren’t you? And then the humiliation escalates even more. I’m taking advantage of your shredded self-esteem to make you do totally debasing and demeaning things for my enjoyment, and you’re too weak, too horny, too far gone, to tear yourself away. You don’t even know who you are anymore. You’re nothing but my bitch. Mine to use. Mine to ruin.
