‌

I don’t pretend you deserve comfort. You don’t. I tell you that straight away, mocking how weak you are for even wanting things to feel good. Normal lube is for people with dignity and self respect, and you gave that up a long time ago. I laugh at how easily you accept that you deserve something harsher, something uncomfortable, just because I decided that’s what fits you. The fact that you don’t hesitate says everything about how pathetic you really are for me. I stay in control the entire time, using my voice to guide you while reminding you that the discomfort is the point. You’re not here for pleasure, you’re here to prove obedience. Every reaction, every shaky moment, just shows how far you’ll go for my approval. I make it clear that you’ll take whatever I give you without complaint, because pleasing me matters more to you than feeling good. That’s what makes you a loser for me, and I make sure you feel every second of it.