My name’s Ben, and I’m a 43 year-old married Dad living in the West End of Glasgow. I love walking, playing darts, watching the boxing, enjoying a Grand Prix, watching a movie at the cinema, and socialising with friends at a local watering hole. My sons are my pride and joy. My wife is my best friend. All of which helps to explain why I would be reticent to use her anything like the same way I’m going to destroy your pathetic little holes.

I’m a romantic at heart. I’m moved and animated inside by the idea that love is the most powerful and potent force in the universe. I firmly believe that there is nothing better than carving out time for someone – that most precious of all commodities – and lavishing it on them as a sign of your devotion and affection. And I want to use that time together to truly fucking break you. To make you forget that the words “no”, or “please stop”, or “not there please Daddy it still hurts so bad” have any meaning at all. To fully indoctrinate you into understanding that rape is a compliment, abuse is love, and urine in your face in an unwonted kindness.

I’m also a great believer that trust and friendship are the basis of all great relationships. For me, my word is my bond, and I expect the same from everyone around me. Trust is built from self-sacrifice and confidence – friendship from mutuality and giving. In our relationship, trust will grow when I realise you won’t tell your friends or family or go to the police, and you are using extra concealer to hide the bruises from colleagues – and when you realise that I will quickly resuscitate you if I choke you out, and carefully measure the roofie before I put it in your drink.

But of course, I also think that relationships need some tension and disagreement. Where would any of us be if we agreed on everything? Whether it’s politics, religion, philosophy, or whether Hamiton, Senna or Schumacher is the best driver ever, I’m always sharp and ready for vigorous intellectual debate. For example with us, in our little cuddle sessions, you might say no, or tell Daddy you’ve got a headache. But minutes after being punched in the face and forcibly held down, your strong orgasm will show you that papa was right, that you needed it all along, and that you are nothing more than a lying little whore who has to be forced to do what they really want.

In a nutshell, I’m a walking red flag. But what about you?

You should:

·       Be between 18 and 35 years old.

·       Use safewords as a way to test if your partner’s a real man and will ignore them.

·       Be willing to do pretty much any degrading shit to satisfy a man and prove to him that you are worth loving, even for a brief few minutes after he’s cum and before he goes back to his real family.

·       Enjoy being made into a degraded and dehumanised set of wet fuck holes, the measure of who’s worth is how tight and good they are for Daddy and his friends.

·       Have come to feel that the greatest compliments you’ve ever been paid involved serious breaches of the Sexual Offences Act 2003.

·      Know that “love” isn’t love if it doesn’t include keeping secrets from family, friends, and the police.

·       Crave an older, fucked-up man with an unhealthy disregard your wishes and boundaries, who enjoys hearing about your history of childhood sexual abuse or sexually abusive adult relationships, or ideally both (I called them keepers!).

Non-mandatory “bonus” features include:

·       Having one or more mental health diagnoses, or diagnoses pending. Preference given to Type-2 personality disorders.

·       Browsing and responding to this advert on secure folder so your kind, loving boyfriend doesn’t find out you’re actually just a set of wet, pathetic holes for me.

·       A deep-seated delusional belief in your ability to fix broken men with your total submission, supplication, and degrading debasement.

·       Recurrent fantasies of forced-pregnancies by older men, to own and claim your life in the same way he claimed your holes.

·       Crippling fear of abandonment, coupled with the insatiable desire to attach yourself to unavailable men to live out that abandonment one more time.

·       Enjoying sending photos of yourself as a child to fucked-up men, secretly hoping they will find them sexually attractive.

If you are still here, then you’re probably what I’m looking for. If you have touched yourself while reading this, and found you are getting soaking thinking about debasing yourself with a disgusting, abusive man who has few if any limits as to what he will do to your body, then you are definitely what I’m looking for.

We both know how this will end. But drama and pain are what we’re looking for, aren’t they?

Your new Daddy,

Ben