The art of breaking
You belong on your knees. Stripped of everything and anything; stripped from your agency, your identity, your thoughts, and eventually your soul.
Chained and bruised and not in a physical sense, there’s no need for that, you will obey without being restrained out of sheer devotion.
I'm going to tear you limb from limb, dig my fingers so deep into your skin and bones until I'm the only thing running through your veins.
The only thing left in the shell of the broken toy that you will become is your purpose to serve me. The reason of your otherwise worthless existence, because let’s face it… Who else, if not me, will accept you at your core? You don’t have to hide yourself from me, not after I have seen what’s beyond the facade.
I will pick your brain apart bit by bit, deliberately, infecting, corroding, spreading like a curse. Dissecting every little thought and secret you so desperately try to hide from the world, even from yourself.
I will consume you and you will thank me for it since that will become the up most honor for a pathetic creature such as yourself.
I will infiltrate your mind and I plan to do it slowly, steady yet relentlessly. I will spread through your brain like a sickness, corrupting everything my way.
Every little inch of you belongs to me; you have known from the start, you felt it at the first command. But I won’t stop there because I’m never satisfied and even on the verge of the end I will keep pushing for more, after all, you know your last breath is mine for the taking.