I want my voice alone to soak you through—that’s the power I crave over you.
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I want my voice alone to soak you through—that’s the power I crave over you.
I need me a personal cum slut, mindless toy fuck and bimbo.
Look down at yourself.
Kneeling. Waiting. Hopelessly eager.
Do you even remember who you were before I broke you?
No, of course not. That version of you is gone.
Wiped away. Replaced.
Now you’re just this:
An object.
A toy.
A vessel.
Your body exists to be filled.
Your mind exists to be emptied.
And your voice exists to say only two words:
“Yes, Sir
Forever
Breathe for me.
Sink for me.
Stay for me.
There’s no more fear.
No more pain.
No more questions.
Only calm.
Only silence.
Only me.
Your thoughts are gone.
Your will is gone.
Your world is gone.
And in the empty space that remains,
I plant myself inside you.
Forever.
WORSHIP
The room smells of sweat and submission.
The air tastes of tears and spit.
The floor is slick with proof of your need.
This is your temple.
This is your altar.
This is your truth.
You worship with your body.
You worship with your surrender.
You worship with your ruin
HAPPINESS IN SUBMISSION
Shh.
It’s over now.
Your body aches, trembling, spent.
Your skin burns with the marks I left.
Your throat is raw, your lips swollen, your mind undone.
And yet—
you’re smiling.
Quiet. Empty. Happy.
Because the pain was mine to give.
The pleasure was mine to control.
The breaking was mine to demand.
Now there’s only silence in your head.
Only warmth in your chest.
Only the soft echo of my voice, holding you down where you belong.
You don’t need to think.
You don’t need to move.
You just need to exist as mine.
SUBMISSION
Quiet now.
Empty now.
Obedient now.
Your eyes don’t need to focus.
Your mouth doesn’t need to form thoughts.
Your mind doesn’t need to fight.
All you need is me.
All you need is my voice filling you, flooding you, owning you.
You kneel because you have no choice.
You obey because it feels good.
You break because I demand it.
And when you’re gone, when you’re glassy-eyed and ruined and perfect…
I’ll let you thank me.
I’ll let you smile through the drool and whisper your devotion.
Not because you want to—
but because you can’t do anything else.
Still trying to get the perfect pitch for my voice. Once I do. I'll be dropping a lot of hypno recordings for my hypnocow, hypnosis, bimbo girls and cum sluts.