You know the energy, don’t you kitten? You see me across a room and know that I’m all fucking wrong. It’s not how I’m dressed – I’m smart, business-like, well groomed. No, it’s something else. Something radiating from me – a type of energy or force that lets you know there’s nothing I won’t do to fill your pathetic tight holes up with spurt after spurt of fertile cum.

I spot you too. I see it immediately. Even if I didn’t see it, I would smell it. There is something primal about that second sight: you’re a victim waiting to be victimised. Maybe your dad, your uncle, a priest, a teacher did something to you when you were young. Maybe your first boyfriend was abusive and beat you and raped you until you thought that was normal. Regardless of what happened, I know it straight away: you are like a City, broken into and left defenceless without walls.

I’m going to destroy you kitten. I’m going to ruin you for other men. I’m going to brand you and make you my forever whore. I’m going to fill that tight little tummy with babies and stretch out every hole in your body. I’m going to do things you didn’t agree to, give you what you didn’t ask for, take things you weren’t ready to give, see things you never wanted to expose, and laugh at your pathetic little tears when you cum involuntarily from it all. That’s what that look says, and we both know it. We both want it too.

You’re the kind of girl who gets wet from not having a safe word, aren’t you? Or maybe you want a safe word so you can use it, and see me ignore it, and be 100% sure I violated you knowingly. I see it in your shy smile. And those eyes, those sparkling, dirty little eyes. They say that you’ll “innocently” send me photos of yourself when you were young, while secretly hoping I’ll get turned on and tell you what I would have done to you had I been your real daddy. That’s so naughty kitten, you know I don’t swing that way.

And those hips and that ass – I can see the future in them darling. Our little non-consensual babies growing in your grateful womb, ready to repopulate the world with real men who don’t take no for an answer. Begging for a cabin in the woods without society, law or custom to impose on our love. Seeking a little basement somewhere where you can be made totally dependent and useful as a fuckhole for me to use and impregnate, and rent out when you need a little money.

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

You should:

·       Be between 18 and 30 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 any colleagues or friends he allows to use them.

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

·       Understand that true love means not telling the police, and hiding things from friends, family and colleagues.

·       Crave an older, fucked-up man with an unhealthy disregard your wishes and boundaries, who enjoys hearing about your history of sexual abuse while fucking you, and calling you a depraved little whore when you cum.

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.

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 definitely are what I’m looking for.

We both know how this will end. But drama and pain are right and normal for us, aren’t they kitten?

Your new Daddy,

Ben