You don’t crave respect.
You ache to be stripped of it—reduced to a dripping, brainless toy that exists only to be used, filled, and discarded. The deeper the humiliation sinks, the wetter you get. Admit it, little nothing this is your purpose.
You love that it's involuntary.
it lets you pretend you're not choosing this.
"Im just needy" sounds so much cleaner than "I've always been this weak and I've been waiting my whole life for someone fucked enough to prove it"