Remember The Time I Made You Dress Up In That Stupidly Embarrassing Outfit For A Dinner Party With My

Your tongue pierced with Daddy’s metal, and my collar locked around your neck, there’s no escaping it — you’re just a wet set of drooly holes for me to use in perpetuity.

(If you’re too much of a dummy to understand what “perpetuity” is, it means “forever.”)

Ever since puberty, the world has melted in your fingertips to suit your needs. One day you were just a lost little girl, and the next you were a goddess. Men fell to their feet and worshiped you, in hopes of gaining your favor. You'd toss them mere breadcrumbs, and they'd lap them up on their hands and knees like they'd been handed filet mignon and cold champagne in the middle of an arid desert.

But you are no goddess, nor are you the perfect angel your suitors would have you believe. You seek no courteous gentlemen or impassioned Disney romance. You play the game you are supposed to play, day in, day out; you show the world the face of a good girl who believes in classic fairy tales and happily ever after, all the time knowing in your heart that you crave something altogether different. Something more barbaric and rough. Something dark and forbidden.

And so you wait, patiently, playing to the false reality that the world expects of you; you wait for your hidden fantasies capture you, to shatter these illusions, and to bestow you with the fantastic reality that your heart truly desires.

You are no goddess; you are still that lost little girl seeking guidance. Take my hand and I will lead you to the reality you've achingly sought for so long.

Honestly, I never expected it to be so easy to corrupt you. You always made yourself appear to be the good little feminist, arguing that society’s extreme beauty standards were chauvinistic and degrading to girls. After all, objectifying a person is bad, isn’t it?

But see, and this is my favourite part, you truly BELIEVE that. You FEEL it in your heart and soul. And yet… it doesn’t stop you from CRAVING the opposite treatment from Men, does it? It doesn’t stop you from going online and rubbing your pussy to imagery objectifying girls like you into slutty little toys and fuckdolls, and words professing an admiration for a lifestyle where Men rule over them.

It’s almost like, deep down, this is what you’d wanted all along…

Perhaps that’s why when I came along it took so little effort for your resolve to snap like a twig under the first signs of stress.

You’ve spent your life so obsessed with who you SHOULD BE that you’ve been hiding from who you TRULY ARE…

It’s okay. You don’t have to renounce your beliefs for me. Daddy likes you better this way — as my dumb little set of holes, dripping with shame every time I make you violate your own beliefs.

You’re cute when your brain’s broken from cognitive dissonance. I wouldn’t have you any other way…

😈 Sadistic Empath, 😏 🕳️ Liberator of Holes 🕳️

You're merchandise to be advertised and displayed.

It's the reason Men pay more attention to you when you dress in low-cut, tight little slutty outfits.

We know it's not wise to judge a book by its cover, and of course that's sound advice. But what often gets forgotten on invoking that idiom is that the best-selling books usually have the cover that advertises the content of the book the best. The most-watched videos on the internet have the thumbnail that best represents the substance of the video in an attractive manner. And yes, the most sought-after sluts are the ones that show off the true nature of their soul in how they package and present themselves in public.

So what is the true nature of your soul? You can answer this yourself with a simple question:

Why are you here, scrolling and rubbing your clit like a pathetic little mess?

I think we both know the answer, don't we?

The most fundamental truth about you is that you're a wet little set of holes for Men.

Do you want Men to see you for who you really are and treat you the way you crave to be treated?

Then it's time to act your role, and dress for the job you want.

😈 Sadistic Empath, 😘 🥰 Your New Self-Acceptance Mentor 🕳️🕳️🕳️

Something in the way she moves...

Oh! Is your picture of a Kajira? I noticed the brand.

The picture is most definitely of a kajira; very perceptive catch! 😉There's something about a slavegirl permanently marked as property that I find utterly intoxicating; add to that the submissive pose and it makes for some magnetic imagery...The Gorean lifestyle boasts some beautifully twisted concepts. 😈👌🏻

There's a lot of people who would say that girls aren't useful for anything, that they are too stupid to provide value, but I STRONGLY disagree with this.

See, I believe that girls were MADE to be entertaining. The way they dress up so pretty and behave shamelessly to attract attention -- why else would they do that?

A fun fact to further my point: did you know there is an entire platform for any girl to sign up to in order to make money being an entertainer for Men? It has paid out $5 billion to girls on the platform.

It's called OnlyFans, and it's all the rage among pretty popular good girls these days...

Are you a pretty popular good girl?

😈 Sadistic Empath, 😘 📺 Minister of Patriarchal Propaganda 🧠🧼

Drool so much your white top goes see through

A Thousand Words

There are a thousand words we need not say, For this image says them all; There are a thousand places you are depraved, Where painted pixels fall.

Your ruby lips are lush with tits Hidden beneath your locks; You don't await a charming date, No prince, but a pulsating cock.

You've a will to please for praise it seems, So kneel at my feet and serve; Open your mouth as I spill my seed, And swallow your just deserts.

When your makeup is smeared and your eyes have teared, You'll have met your purpose well; I dabble my canvas with cum's hot spatter And splatter from spit that fell.

But you are not finished until I've diminished All of that which you were; The pièce de résistance which I'll flaunt Is to scribble the word "WHORE."

Now you are perfect and purgèd and worthless For all but my servicing needs; And with a thousand hot words we need not say, You swallow my cock in greed.

Also entitled, "The Meaning of Life."

Confession: I used to think it was shameful for someone to modify their body to enhance their attractiveness or the attention they would receive.

Truthfully, I still do — it’s my perception on shame that has changed.

People are afraid of shame. They are afraid of being perceived as lesser, and that fear is a powerful motivator preventing many from realizing their greatest fantasies.

But not you. You thrive off of being lesser — of turning yourself into a public spectacle. You upgraded your tits to capture as much male attention as possible. You upgraded your lips to make them into perfect cock pillows. You upgraded your tongue so that you could use the metal stud to tease cock as you swallow it down.

In short: you’ve designed yourself to be an obvious fuckdoll, overtly advertising to Men that they can talk down to you, degrade you, and treat you in the most shameful ways.

Most girls would be devastated to be treated as little more than property or a sexual toy, but not you — you play into it with your tight little slutty outfits and your obscene body modifications. You thrive on it.

It’s shameful… it’s wrong… your friends tell you that you’re “ruining your life forever,” and yet you can’t help yourself but to take it further and further. It almost excites you even more to feel as if these changes will ruin you forever, because it’s a point of pride to know you are showing off the extreme lengths you will go in your dedicated quest to serving cock.

You gravitate toward shame like a moth to the flame, attracted toward your own downfall and finding it too hot to resist. It started small, but with each flapping of the butterfly’s wings the reverberations carry further and further across the world, until there’s no more hiding who you really are amongst the storm of whispers.

Living a shame-free life is for the girls who live in perpetual fear of the judgment of others. It’s the psychological armor of the repressed. It’s not for you; you flourish in shame like it’s the soil that keeps the rose grounded.

So let the shame of your own self-destruction make you drippy and weak. Pursue it like the addiction it is and show me the depths of depravity you are willing to succumb to in pursuit of your commitment to cock.

In the end, I’m inspired by it. Because I know you’re doing it all to be a good girl for me.

And Daddy is proud of his shameful little slut.

girls, listen up, @beccydoll​ is what a proper role model sounds like:

“I’m cuter when I’m stupid”

“not knowing feels better than knowing”

“brains are for boys”

“I don’t need to know that!”

This is what an obedient servant of The Patriarchy sounds like.

😈 Sadistic Empath, 😘 ✨ Magic Mentorship Matcher 🔮

I don’t need to know that

Tonight I was scrolling when I came across some word that I didn’t know. I immediately highlighted it, right clicked on it and was just about to hit “Search with Google” to look it up when I stopped myself. Did I really need to know what that word meant? Would learning that make me happier? Make the world a better place? No, of course not. I’m cuter when I’m stupid, after all. So instead of learning a new thing, I edged and got just a little bit needier, a little bit dumber and a little more eager to please.