u/andr0ang3l

tell me what you’d do if you found me on the side of some highway, or bumming around some rest stop all alone. so small, looking so vulnerable even as i try to put on my best scowl. wearing baggy clothes to cover up my body, but the smooth skin exposed is begging to be touched. like unplowed snow. something about me just screams innocent. you wonder how long ive been out here on my own, what drove me to this. im all skittish, flinchy, despite my best efforts to act tough, look like i know what im doing. you wonder about my ethnicity, think i might be some sort of hispanic half breed or something…you can tell im in way over my head. tell me how you’d take advantage of me. maybe you’d play nice, offer me food, a ride. even a place to stay. make me feel safe, taken care of. make me rely on you, need you. you think it’d probably be so easy to manipulate such a damaged, desperate little thing. fucking with my head, slowly corrupting me, getting me wrapped around your finger…or maybe you’re the more forceful type. would rather pin me down and hear me cry, make me feel all helpless. or slip me some drugs, feel my body go limp as i lose control. you could be a trucker, getting me to stay with you at seedy motels, living off of cheap beer, drugs, and vending machine snacks. or maybe your a professor on his way home for break, before you run into me. decide to go on a little road trip, and we stay at clean midrange hotels. you take me out to restaurants and buy me food, all the drinks I want. keep a constant supply of weed so I can always get as high as I want. even let me have some stronger stuff on special occasions. would you share me with your friends to show off what a good slut you’ve trained, or would you be the more possessive type, making sure everyone always knows im yours. tipsy and stoned, tell me how you’d corrupt me

tell me what you’d do if you found me on the side of some highway, or bumming around some rest stop all alone. so small, looking so vulnerable even as i try to put on my best scowl. wearing baggy clothes to cover up my body, but the smooth skin exposed is begging to be touched. like unplowed snow. something about me just screams innocent. you wonder how long ive been out here on my own, what drove me to this. im all skittish, flinchy, despite my best efforts to act tough, look like i know what im doing. you can tell im in way over my head. tell me how you’d take advantage of me. maybe you’d play nice, offer me food, a ride. even a place to stay. make me feel safe, taken care of. make me rely on you, need you. you think it’d probably be so easy to manipulate such a damaged, desperate little thing. fucking with my head, slowly corrupting me, getting me wrapped around your finger…or maybe you’re the more forceful type. would rather pin me down and hear me cry, make me feel all helpless. or slip me some drugs, feel my body go limp as i lose control. you could be a trucker, getting me to stay with you at seedy motels, living off of cheap beer, drugs, and vending machine snacks. or maybe your a professor on his way home for break, before you run into me. decide to go on a little road trip, and we stay at clean midrange hotels. you take me out to restaurants and buy me food, all the drinks I want. keep a constant supply of weed so I can always get as high as I want. even let me have some stronger stuff on special occasions. would you share me with your friends to show off what a good slut you’ve trained, or would you be the more possessive type, making sure everyone always knows im yours.

for such a fragile little thing. i was always a weirdo growing up, could never fit in, no matter how hard i tried. it didn’t really take long before i just stopped trying altogether. it was a little less humiliating that way, if I just accepted that i was a weird little freak. i alway kept my hair short and i never bothered with make up. i kept my nails painted black to stop myself from biting them. i hated wearing skirts and girly clothes so much. i hated the way it emphasized certain parts of my body. i hated the kind of attention it attracted. it made me feel weak, and stupid. at my school i was allowed to wear shorts and pants, but my parents were way more traditional. it took years of begging and crying and causing trouble and vicious fighting until they finally let me ditch the skirt. only it didn’t help things at all, it was just another thing that made me stick out. and the guys were merciless. it’s like they knew exactly why i’d switched uniforms, exactly what i was trying to avoid, what i was so afraid of, and there’s no way they were letting me off the hook that easily. think my parents thought the strict discipline would make me a little tougher, but they were very wrong. it only made me worse, helped turn me into the depraved, traumatized whore i am today. looking back it was such an obvious recipe for disaster. i was so lonely, so desperate for approval. id been so failed be every adult around me, they’d proven either totally uninterested or utterly incapable of helping me. just made so so vulnerable. recipe for disaster.

tell me what you’d do if you found me on the side of some highway, or bumming around some rest stop all alone. so small, looking so vulnerable even as i try to put on my best scowl. wearing baggy clothes to cover up my body, but the smooth skin exposed is begging to be touched. like unplowed snow. something about me just screams innocent. you wonder how long ive been out here on my own, what drove me to this. im all skittish, flinchy, despite my best efforts to act tough, look like i know what im doing. you can tell im in way over my head. tell me how you’d take advantage of me. maybe you’d play nice, offer me food, a ride. even a place to stay. make me feel safe, taken care of. make me rely on you, need you. you think it’d probably be so easy to manipulate such a damaged, desperate little thing. fucking with my head, slowly corrupting me, getting me wrapped around your finger…or maybe you’re the more forceful type. would rather pin me down and hear me cry, make me feel all helpless. or slip me some drugs, feel my body go limp as i lose control. you could be a trucker, getting me to stay with you at seedy motels, living off of cheap beer, drugs, and vending machine snacks. or maybe your a professor on his way home for break, before you run into me. decide to go on a little road trip, and we stay at clean midrange hotels. you take me out to restaurants and buy me food, all the drinks I want. keep a constant supply of weed so I can always get as high as I want. even let me have some stronger stuff on special occasions. would you share me with your friends to show off what a good slut you’ve trained, or would you be the more possessive type, making sure everyone always knows im yours.

tell me what you’d do if you found me on the side of some highway, or bumming around some rest stop all alone. so small, looking so vulnerable even as i try to put on my best scowl. wearing baggy clothes to cover up my body, but the smooth skin exposed is begging to be touched. like unplowed snow. something about me just screams innocent. you wonder how long ive been out here on my own, what drove me to this. im all skittish, flinchy, despite my best efforts to act tough, look like i know what im doing. you can tell im in way over my head. tell me how you’d take advantage of me. maybe you’d play nice, offer me food, a ride. even a place to stay. make me feel safe, taken care of. make me rely on you, need you. you think it’d probably be so easy to manipulate such a damaged, desperate little thing. fucking with my head, slowly corrupting me, getting me wrapped around your finger…or maybe you’re the more forceful type. would rather pin me down and hear me cry, make me feel all helpless. or slip me some drugs, feel my body go limp as i lose control. you could be a trucker, getting me to stay with you at seedy motels, living off of cheap beer, drugs, and vending machine snacks. or maybe your a professor on his way home for break, before you run into me. decide to go on a little road trip, and we stay at clean midrange hotels. you take me out to restaurants and buy me food, all the drinks I want. keep a constant supply of weed so I can always get as high as I want. even let me have some stronger stuff on special occasions. would you share me with your friends to show off what a good slut you’ve trained, or would you be the more possessive type, making sure everyone always knows im yours.

come take advantage of a vulnerable little thing like me

so spoiled and stupid, come put me in my place

young and petite, never been owned before. prideful and needy, but the perfect challenge for an experienced older daddy. teach me my place, im just begging for it

for such a fragile little thing. i was always a weirdo growing up, could never fit in, no matter how hard i tried. it didn’t really take long before i just stopped trying altogether. it was a little less humiliating that way, if I just accepted that i was a weird little freak. i alway kept my hair short and i never bothered with make up. i kept my nails painted black to stop myself from biting them. i hated wearing skirts and girly clothes so much. i hated the way it emphasized certain parts of my body. i hated the kind of attention it attracted. it made me feel weak, and stupid. at my school i was allowed to wear shorts and pants, but my parents were way more traditional. it took years of begging and crying and causing trouble and vicious fighting until they finally let me ditch the skirt. only it didn’t help things at all, it was just another thing that made me stick out. and the guys were merciless. it’s like they knew exactly why i’d switched uniforms, exactly what i was trying to avoid, what i was so afraid of, and there’s no way they were letting me off the hook that easily. think my parents thought the strict discipline would make me a little tougher, but they were very wrong. it only made me worse, helped turn me into the depraved, traumatized whore i am today. looking back it was such an obvious recipe for disaster. i was so lonely, so desperate for approval. id been so failed be every adult around me, they’d proven either totally uninterested or utterly incapable of helping me. just made so so vulnerable. recipe for disaster.

mm special toys like me were made by God to be abused by older men. my body was specially crafted to be groped and used, my mind perfectly primed to be taken advantage of. i was born to be an outlet for the sick desires of pervert old men. that's why i crave it so much, why i can't seem to get away from it no matter how hard i try. it must be God's calling for me. come show me my purpose, it’ll feel soo good to just give in…

so twisted, so depraved, so fucking needy. I’m so desperate to get worse. finally giving in to all my sick urges feels soso good. i wanna get worse, i wanna lose myself in this forever. come take advantage of me, help me sink deeper, help me ride this bliss as long as possible. I love it so much.

a body like mine is just begging to be plastered all over missing person posters and milk cartons. i wasn’t meant for this world anyways. was never meant to live a normal life. ive got a special purpose. and id feel so much better with you taking care of me all the time. always watching and protecting me. so fragile and delicate. so special. make me ur secret little basement toy

a body like mine is just begging to be plastered all over missing person posters and milk cartons. i wasn’t meant for this world anyways. was never meant to live a normal life. ive got a special purpose. and id feel so much better with you taking care of me all the time. always watching and protecting me. so fragile and delicate. so special. make me ur secret little basement toy

a body like mine is just begging to be plastered all over missing person posters and milk cartons. i wasn’t meant for this world anyways. was never meant to live a normal life. ive got a special purpose. and id feel so much better with you taking care of me all the time. always watching and protecting me. so fragile and delicate. so special. make me ur secret little basement toy

a body like mine is just begging to be plastered all over missing person posters and milk cartons. i wasn’t meant for this world anyways. was never meant to live a normal life. ive got a special purpose. and id feel so much better with you taking care of me all the time. always watching and protecting me. so fragile and delicate. so special. make me ur secret little basement toy

tell me what you’d do if you found me on the side of some highway, or bumming around some rest stop all alone. so small, looking so vulnerable even as i try to put on my best scowl. wearing baggy clothes to cover up my body, but the smooth skin exposed is begging to be touched. like unplowed snow. something about me just screams innocent. you wonder how long ive been out here on my own, what drove me to this. im all skittish, flinchy, despite my best efforts to act tough, look like i know what im doing. you can tell im in way over my head. tell me how you’d take advantage of me. maybe you’d play nice, offer me food, a ride. even a place to stay. make me feel safe, taken care of. make me rely on you, need you. you think it’d probably be so easy to manipulate such a damaged, desperate little thing. fucking with my head, slowly corrupting me, getting me wrapped around your finger…or maybe you’re the more forceful type. would rather pin me down and hear me cry, make me feel all helpless. or slip me some drugs, feel my body go limp as i lose control. you could be a trucker, getting me to stay with you at seedy motels, living off of cheap beer, drugs, and vending machine snacks. or maybe your a professor on his way home for break, before you run into me. decide to go on a little road trip, and we stay at clean midrange hotels. you take me out to restaurants and buy me food, all the drinks I want. keep a constant supply of weed so I can always get as high as I want. even let me have some stronger stuff on special occasions. would you share me with your friends to show off what a good slut you’ve trained, or would you be the more possessive type, making sure everyone always knows im yours. tipsy and stoned, tell me how you’d corrupt me

tell me what you’d do if you found me on the side of some highway, or bumming around some rest stop all alone. so small, looking so vulnerable even as i try to put on my best scowl. wearing baggy clothes to cover up my body, but the smooth skin exposed is begging to be touched. like unplowed snow. something about me just screams innocent. you wonder how long ive been out here on my own, what drove me to this. im all skittish, flinchy, despite my best efforts to act tough, look like i know what im doing. you can tell im in way over my head. tell me how you’d take advantage of me. maybe you’d play nice, offer me food, a ride. even a place to stay. make me feel safe, taken care of. make me rely on you, need you. you think it’d probably be so easy to manipulate such a damaged, desperate little thing. fucking with my head, slowly corrupting me, getting me wrapped around your finger…or maybe you’re the more forceful type. would rather pin me down and hear me cry, make me feel all helpless. or slip me some drugs, feel my body go limp as i lose control. you could be a trucker, getting me to stay with you at seedy motels, living off of cheap beer, drugs, and vending machine snacks. or maybe your a professor on his way home for break, before you run into me. decide to go on a little road trip, and we stay at clean midrange hotels. you take me out to restaurants and buy me food, all the drinks I want. keep a constant supply of weed so I can always get as high as I want. even let me have some stronger stuff on special occasions. would you share me with your friends to show off what a good slut you’ve trained, or would you be the more possessive type, making sure everyone always knows im yours. tipsy and stoned, tell me how you’d corrupt me

oh wow, it feels sooo good to give in ^_^

i just want to sink again. It feels so good to just give in. It’s so hard trying to be so good all the time. always trying to resist. deleting posts and profiles, wiping away all the evidence, all the potential triggers. cutting back on drinking and smoking. always trying to stay in control. the truth is when im relapsing hard, sinking deep, that’s when im happiest. that’s when im being the most honest, when im embracing all my sick perversions, all the twisted parts of myself. fuck i miss it so bad, I’m literally begging to be triggered. i want to get worse. i miss the rush from showing off my body to strangers, and reading all the perverted, filthy DMs….my cunt literally throbbing, aching to be touched. feeling my head get aaaall fuzzy, knowing this is how a hard relapse starts