Your friends would be shocked and disgusted to know you're even reading this. Let's be honest, you're a little shocked and disgusted too. But like a dumb little slut following the dictates of her wet needy cunt, you clicked on here and you're still reading, aren't you?

It's okay, Daddy understands. You talk and even believe a good feminist game. You vote Green. You tell your friends about the evils of the patriarchy, bro culture, and MAGA. You defriended people who voted for Brexit. You have a "yes means yes" pin proudly displayed on your favourite jumper. You go to demonstrations for women's rights.

So kitten, why is it that you crave an older, nasty, chauvinistic, right-wing man who will ignore your entreaties and fuck you anyway? Why does your cunt leak when you think of me telling you this is what women are for, and quoting bible verses about female submission, as I use your little throat with my big cock? Why do you feel so comforted and useful thinking of me telling you what to do, telling you to open your mouth and rub your cunt as you squat in the bath while I spray my piss all over you after I've used your pussy?

Maybe you need more therapy. Maybe what your teacher, or dad, or uncle, or priest, or first boyfriend did to you when you were young has fucked you up more than you know. Perhaps you need to pay by the hour for a highly-skilled professional to turn you into a better human being whose pussy obeys, rather than betrays, her woke values.

Or maybe, just maybe, your needs are totally natural and God-given, and they make you just perfect for your Daddy. Maybe this is just how the Lord intended you to be: wet, submissive, awaiting instruction, and almost instantly orgasmic at the thought of me ignoring our safe word and using you anyway because Daddy needs to cum and that's what your fucking holes are for you stupid little slut.

Perhaps you need put in your place once and for all, you need to be the useful obedient little girl you were made to be, and your leaking pussy is telling you a fundamental and inescapable truth about yourself: that serving men is the key to joy and fulfillment. Perhaps you are here for a reason, and this advert and its author are providence's way of letting you find out why.

I know you're uneasy baby, you're not used to contacting men like me, are you? This isn't what your therapist and 12-step group meant by self-care is it? It's okay honey, why don't you go back to your boyfriend? The one you are meant to have. The one your parents and friends approve of, with his right-on views about affirmative consent. The one society has emasculated to be a shadow of a real man - the one who you wish you didn't cum for when he goes down on you - the one who you feel guilty about betraying by reading these adverts and touching yourself.

Good kitten. Get your pussy nice and wet thinking about a misogynistic married conservative sadist, and go to your boyfriend and pretend it's all for him. See how that makes you feel, you broken little whore. See if another few years of talking therapy helps your pussy get over its penchant for real men. Maybe confide in a friend; try to shame yourself out of needing to be used by a man who knows that women are made to serve, and can only be fulfilled and joyful when they've been used hard.

And, when none of that works, you can get on your knees and come to Daddy. Or, why not save yourself the expense and shame, and chat to me now? It'll be the best and last decision you'll ever have to make for yourself.