Lydia

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Your inferiority complex amuses me. I don't mean the kind of amusement that's felt when playing a game or watching television ... I'm talking the 'twisted' kind of amusement. There's something viscerally satisfying to me about pointing out your insecurities and shining a light on them, whatever those insecurities may be.

Maybe it's that little thumb-like appendage between your legs that you know could never please a woman, let alone a woman of my caliber. Just the sound of a woman snickering at that little sucker makes the blood rush to it and your cheeks. Not much is more hilarious than watching some sad, insignificant loser furiously stroking his little pencil dick, while blushing and hanging his head in shame!

Are you embarrassed by your desire for femininity? You should be, you little prancing lulu. The humiliation that's apparent on your face and in your demeanor as you dress up in ridiculous frilly dresses for my entertainment, it only encourages me to take it further ... to make it burn deeper.

I know, it's just that you're such a painfully inadequate man... so much so that you can't possibly comprehend all your inadequacies. I can help you with that. I will make you understand what an utter disappointment you truly are.

Confess to me your deepest fears. Tell me what it is that has turned you into such a sad little wanker. I can always use a good laugh, especially at your expense. So pick up the phone and tell me all about what tickles that tiny pickle of yours. I bet it's fucking hilarious!