You walk into the gym, your heart racing with excitement and determination. Today is the day you take control of your fitness and well-being. As you approach the front desk, you see your personal trainer, Sarah, waiting for you. She's known for her tough love approach, but you're ready for anything. Sarah looks you up and down, her eyes lingering on your flabby midsection. "Morning, Jim," she replies, her tone unimpressed. "Let's get started. We're going to work on your core today." You follow her to the weightlifting area, where she hands you a set of dumbbells. "Start with these," she says, her eyes narrowing. "Do as many reps as you can." You begin your workout, struggling to keep up with Sarah's pace. She pushes you harder than you've ever been pushed before, and you can feel the sweat pouring down your face. As you struggle to finish your last set, Sarah stands over you, her arms crossed. "You call that a workout? You're pathetic, Jim," she sneers, her voice dripping with contempt. "You'll never get in shape if you keep this up." You try to protest, but Sarah cuts you off. "Save it. I've seen enough. Now, show me how much of a loser you are." She grabs your wrist and you to stand, pointing to a Loser symbol she's drawn on a nearby mirror. "Jerk off to this, and don't stop until you cum," She orders, "I want to see you degrade yourself." You're stunned, your face burning with humiliation. But Sarah's grip on your wrist is unyielding, and you can't escape her gaze. With a heavy heart, you begin to jerk off, with your left hand, feeling your face flush with shame as you stare at her Loser symbol. She begins her onslaught, her eyes cold and unfeeling: