You’re addicted to being addicted.

You’re addicted to losing all control.

You’re addicted to being absolutely powerless.

You’re addicted to being humiliated by being controlled by your clit.

You’re addicted to the realization that there’s no turning back.

You’re addicted to becoming less and less.

You’re addicted to confessing your weakness.

You’re addicted to being addicted to being addicted

You’re addicted to the rush of being used, to being consumed, to feeling small, insignificant, and powerless.

You’re addicted to the submission, to giving yourself over completely, to being humiliated and shamed without a second thought.

You’re addicted to the paradox of it all—how the more you lose, the more you find something you can’t escape, something you crave

You’re addicted to the emptiness, the hollow space that grows wider every time you try to fill it, knowing you can never be whole again

You’re addicted to the freedom that comes with the fall, with the surrender, even though you know the ground is only a fraction of a second away.

You’re addicted to the depth of your own weakness, the way it echoes and reverberates inside you, louder than anything else

You’re addicted to being addicted, knowing that there’s no escape, no cure, no way back. This is who you are now, and you can’t stop.

You’re addicted to the addiction itself. You are addicted to keep reading my words.

Good girl!!