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Celeste lies back under a star-washed sky, legs open, still empty — cyan eyes bright, grin sharp — and looks straight at you. Hey, tiny. Don't look away. See this? Nothing inside. Just open air. And somehow your cock is still thinner. Needle's eye, thread dick — if it goes in and I feel zero, are you even a man? Relax. I've broken fifty-plus of you soft boys already. You're not special. You're next. Smile for me while I decide how small your first cage should be.