L’arôme de votre dégradation est votre prix

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I'll systematically dismantle you, encouraged you to sit in a filthy diaper, stewing in the stench of your own shame. You'll furiously pleasure yourself, overwhelmed by that rancid scent, but you'll never be allowed release unless I say so. My voice is your cage, and each inhale pulls you closer to your breaking point. You're nothing more than a plaything in my grasp, and I'll decide when and how you finally shatter.

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