Masculinity is oh so fragile. You men like to pretend that you’re strong and impermeable. You surround yourself with objects, you accumulate money in order to validate your pathetic and meaningless existence, but the life you end up with is no life at all. You’re running the rat-race, striving to obtain meaning, straining for it with every fiber of your being. All you end up with is dust and ashes; your dead possessions, your dead libido, and a hollow self lost in a maze of worthlessness and loneliness. Luckily, you’ve discovered Mistress Xenia. I know just how worthless you are. I understand your suffering and I know that there’s nothing you can do to relieve it. You think you can hide behind the fortress of possessions and money that you’ve built up around yourself, but I will strip that fortress away, topple all your defenses, and reduce you to what you really are; a weak fragment of humanity governed by ego and a lust for feminine affirmation. The only thing you can do is give yourself over to me.