I revel in your agony on various levels. There is the sting from my whip, the torment of being forced to ingest my feces, and the anguish that stems from appreciating my superior beauty and the realization that you will never possess a woman as stunning and sophisticated as me, except as a restroom. This is the type of suffering that beholding me in my sophisticated attire and observing my graceful gait induces in you. For a man, witnessing a woman raise her dress over her exquisite rear would signify that he is about to experience the utmost pleasure imaginable and engage in the quintessential act affirming his masculinity. For you, witnessing the fabric ascend over my firm derriere suggests only humiliation. It implies that it is time for me to defecate. It implies that you are about to endure the most degrading act possible, the negation of not only your masculinity, but your humanity. It implies that YOU ARE A TOILET. I position my rosebud right against your mouth until I expel my waste into your throat and smack your genitals. After I dismount, I discover that I still have more to offer you. The slave adjusts the camera so that deviants pleasuring themselves at home can enjoy the finest view. Remember to CONSUME YOUR OWN SEMEN FOR ME. I desire to savor your suffering, as well!