Your existence is a mere footnote in the grand narrative of depravity, a sad story of a man reduced to nothing but a groveling, sniveling creature. Each day, you wake up with the sole purpose of degrading yourself further, eagerly waiting for the next chance to display your worthlessness. You're a pitiful sight, a spineless worm writhing in the filth of your own making. You crave the cruel touch, the harsh words, anything that will remind you of your place at the very bottom of the ladder. You are nothing more than a toy, a plaything to be used and discarded at whim. Your pleasure is irrelevant, your desires laughable. You exist solely for the amusement of your superiors, a puppet dancing on the strings of humiliation and degradation. Your body is a canvas of shame, each mark a testament to your servitude. You are less than human, a mere object of derision and contempt.