Shamestream: Breathing in My Power - the Crushing of a Smoking Fetishist
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Let's not sugarcoat it—you're here because you're weak. Because every puff of my cigarette, every flick of ash, every wisp of smoke sends you spiraling into the depths of humiliation you can't resist. In this audio, I drag you deeper than ever, stripping away any shred of dignity you think you still have, leaving you trembling, addicted, and utterly broken beneath me. This isn't just about smoking. It's about power. My power. Every drag I take, every exhale, every condescending glance reminds you of just how small, insignificant, and pathetic you truly are. You're not a person. You're an addict. A groveling, sniveling little worm who exists only to worship the smoke I exhale and the ash I discard. Picture it now: me, lounging back, the cigarette glowing between my fingers, my lips parting to release a cloud of smoke that wraps around you like a chain. You inhale it, don't you? You breathe it in, desperate to feel the humiliation, the shame, the overwhelming power I have over you.
發佈者 MishaGoldy
Video Transcription
What's this?
You've come crawling back, haven't you?
My little smoking fetishist, desperate for the shop sting of my words to cut you down,
desperate to be reminded of your place beneath me.
It's so predictable, so utterly pathetic.
You can't help yourself.
Just the sight of a cigarette between my fingers,
the faint wisp of smoke curling through the air,
sends you spiraling into submission, doesn't it?
Admit it, you're nothing more than a weak, sniveling little addict,
not to nicotine, but to me.
Look at you, trembling, pathetic, waiting for me to light up,
knowing full well you're missing some divine act.
But there's nothing divine about you, is there?
Your filth.
A pathetic little worm crawling at my feet,
begging for the privilege of watching me smoke, of being consumed by my disdain.
It's laughable.
You're laughable.
Go ahead, get on your knees.
That's where you belong, isn't it?
On the floor, looking up at me,
worshipping every flick of my lighter, every drag I take.
Oh, I know what you're thinking.
You're imagining yourself closer, aren't you?
You're picturing my smoke curling into your face,
your nose, your mouth.
Every puff I take is another nail in the coffin of your dignity, isn't it?
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