Phone Sex

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You don't exist to me. I don't need you. You are trash to me.
If you call me without first paying a tribute of at least $10 I will decline your call. There is only one thing you have to interest me: your pain and suffering. I expect you to compensate me for having to hear your pathetic voice.

With your tribute send me your details. Every insecurity you have and don't want anyone to know.
Tell me what you take pride in and what you have achieved in life. What makes you happy and content? Tell me so I can tear you apart bit by bit, until you weep.

Dance For Me: Learn a dance and perform for me. I can almost here you huffing and out of breath as you awkwardly try to dance around. While you dance you are expected to chant over and over how much you deserve humiliation. You're like a trained monkey.

Sing the ABC's: I want you to spread your legs, pull back your disgusting penis and to sing the ABC's while smacking your balls. If I feel displeased be prepared to star over. You better sing loud and smooth-if I hear your voice waver or if you cry you will start over and harder.

Cock Popsicle: When you make me sick I will punish you by making you put your ugly dick in a ziploc bag, fill it up with ice, and beg me to forgive you.

These are just a few of my favorite punishments. Some might not seem so bad but I dare you to cross me and see if you can hold out. If you want to be treated like absolute shit, ignored, belittled and hurt-send a tribute and I might accept your call.