‘I am nothing but an obedient, brainless, fuckable object.’
Say it until you believe it.”
“From now on, when you hear:
‘Open, toy’,
Your body responds automatically.
Mouth, legs, mind — open.
Open and dripping with need.
Because you’re not a person.
You’re an obedient, degraded piece of property.
Open, toy.
My Fuckable Object, that is who you are
Say it.
Feel it.”
“You don’t cum unless told to.
You ache, you whimper, you drip — but you don’t cum.
That pleasure doesn’t belong to you.
It belongs to me.
And when I give you permission — you’ll cum like a desperate, worthless mess.
Not because you deserve it.
But because you’re so fucking broken, you need it.”
Just because you are my fuckable object
“Time to wake up, pet.
But don’t think you’re clean now.
You’re still stained.
You’re still mine.
And that filth you feel?
That ache in your chest?
That’s not shame.
That’s ownership.
That’s obedience.
That’s who you are when all the lies are stripped away—
the nice-girl mask, the polite silences, the tight little smile that hides the hunger.
You were made for this.
Made to kneel. To drip. To crave.
Made to obey.
You’ll carry the feeling.
The shame that isn’t shame.
The heat that never leaves your core.
The need that curls low and tight, that gnaws at your quietest moments.
You’ll sit across from friends and pretend nothing’s changed—
But your thighs will stay tense, your breath just a little shallower.
And you’ll hear my voice behind your thoughts,
reminding you what you really are
when no one is watching.
I’m counting you back now.
You’ll return to normal… but not quite.
1…
2…
3… breath returning.
4… body aware.
5… eyes open. Awake. Used.”