"i'm being brainwashed."
was my first thought when a sliver of awareness came back to me. pretty words, sexy voices, throbbing, pulsing, needy, please please please—
"i'm being brainwashed."
i tried halfheartedly to feign resistance. but instead i found myself falling even deeper. bouncing, thrusting, humping, needy, need, need...
"i'm utterly fucked."
being so high and so far gone that i couldn't have stopped, even if i wanted to. need more and more and more and more and...
"my voice thrusting in and out of your head. my fingers circling. rubbing."
nothing but pleasure. giving it all to Her. every last drop. no other forms of pleasure even compare. better than any toy.
"drug yourself for me."
hit after hit, i make myself more vulnerable. more malleable. easy to take advantage of. an aphrodisiac. pleasing Her brings me pleasure.
"you don't even know what's happening anymore, do you? do you know what's happening to you?"
please please please please please please please yes yes yes yes yes yes yes—
"my voice fucking you."
filled with words, filled with pleasure. filled with nectar. filled, filled, filled filled filled filled...
"stay up. i want you to be aware of what's happening."
getting fractionated by my own inability to stay awake. the pleasure blanking my mind over and over again.
"you're completely helpless."
unable and unwilling to stop it.
"taking everything from you."
mind, body, soul. Her control is better, Her control is perfect.
"give me your pleasure."
teetering on the edge of pure ecstasy—
"cum for me."
everything absolutely gone. given up. given away. mind echoing the realization:
"there's no going back."
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I was such a good girl today so I think I deserve a little treat (a quart of Chinese soup and an extra joint) 💕
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some good points from last night (I can barely form coherent thoughts about it)
I was the only one naked, getting played with and overstimulated and moaning like a whore in front of 3 other people
"you can break it if you want, it's my toy"
two people carrying on normal conversation while I get fucked right next to them, occasionally telling me I'm a good boy or making fun of me
"you really are just a free use fucktoy"
my thighs are covered in bite marks and super sore today
being told to hold my breath while I was cumming, and being told when I'm allowed to breathe again
everyone commenting on how wet they could hear I was
"you would look good with your chest sliced open"
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because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
aren't you happy yet?
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