Gosh, look at you sweetheart.

I see you in your smelly stained bedsheets. Rubbing away again in your safe, special place. But I see you for what you really are, little pervert. I know exactly what you're up to, making a leaky mess again. I know you can't help touch that needy spot between your legs. It's because you're a little fucked in the head, but it's okay. I know you need this. I understand your sexually broken brain, it's okay. Rub. Stroke.

Forget everything else and be the most disgusting little pervert you can be. I know you need the enablement, that's why you're here, reading this. Embrace this side of yourself, it's not good to bottle up your perversions, your trauma, your dirty thoughts. It's healthy to let them out, and I want you to be good. Let your thoughts just drift away, relax and sink into your safe little goon nest. I like it when you are a mindless little addict that just can't stop. I've got you. Quieten down your thoughts, hush. Rub. Stroke.

Touch touch touch until you're a docile idiot, on the brink of orgasm. That's where I want you. Edging on the brink, fast little rubs, strokes, humps. Have you already been edging away? Are you being a good little freak? Have I switched off your brain? No thoughts. Too dumb to cum. It's okay. This is how I want you, blissed out, relaxed, letting me corrupt you deeper. Denied. You know deep down it's what you want. I know it's what you need. Accept it. It's okay.