u/kavi_1983

Summer vacation has left me completely exposed with no escape. M3ssages flood in at all hours — morning, afternoon, late night secret chats flashing for mere seconds before disappearing. The words have become even more vicious and degrading:

“Ma’am, teri badi badi gaand aur motey mamme dekh ke humara lund roz khada hota hai, tu toh puri randi choot hai.”

“Randi teacher, teri choot aur tight gaand sirf humare lund ke liye bani hai, pura din maal se bhar ke chodenge.”

“Kutiya ma’am, tere muh ko humara lund ka toilet bana denge, chehre pe maal daal ke raste ka cumdump bana dunga.”

Thick, veiny cocks flash constantly monstrous sizes that still shock me at their age, hairy and sweaty bases, shaved bulging heads, curved brutal shafts, giants dripping and throbbing. Videos show them pumping furiously over my photos, calling me “sasti randi teacher”, “class ki public property”, “worthless body for student lund”, before exploding thick loads all over my smiling face.

Every single m3ssage hits me like fire. My body reacts instantly heat rushes through me no matter how much I hate it.The more they degrade my body, the more broken and aroused I feel. Nine years without any real intimacy has turned me into this pathetic, addicted mess who craves the humiliation.

I still haven’t replied. I still haven’t sent anything. But inside I’m completely crumbling. The summer heat and these constant degradations are pushing me to the edge. I don’t know how much more of this I can take before I lose myself entirely.

I want to ch@t with a random young stranger. Just chatting. Nothing else.

I’m even ready to pay him money for his time so he can talk to me freely, degrade me, talk whatever he wants without any risk of him knowing who I really am. I’ll keep my privacy safe. Nine years without any touch has made me this desperate and rotted. I just want to pay someone young to talk dirty to me and treat me like filth.

I haven’t done it yet… but the urge is getting too strong.

Go through my previous posts

Deleting this after some time

Summer vacation has left me completely exposed with no escape. M3ssages flood in at all hours — morning, afternoon, late night secret chats flashing for mere seconds before disappearing. The words have become even more vicious and degrading:

“Ma’am, teri badi badi gaand aur motey mamme dekh ke humara lund roz khada hota hai, tu toh puri randi choot hai.”

“Randi teacher, teri choot aur tight gaand sirf humare lund ke liye bani hai, pura din maal se bhar ke chodenge.”

“Kutiya ma’am, tere muh ko humara lund ka toilet bana denge, chehre pe maal daal ke raste ka cumdump bana dunga.”

Thick, veiny cocks flash constantly monstrous sizes that still shock me at their age, hairy and sweaty bases, shaved bulging heads, curved brutal shafts, giants dripping and throbbing. Videos show them pumping furiously over my photos, calling me “sasti randi teacher”, “class ki public property”, “worthless body for student lund”, before exploding thick loads all over my smiling face.

Every single m3ssage hits me like fire. My body reacts instantly heat rushes through me no matter how much I hate it.The more they degrade my body, the more broken and aroused I feel. Nine years without any real intimacy has turned me into this pathetic, addicted mess who craves the humiliation.

I still haven’t replied. I still haven’t sent anything. But inside I’m completely crumbling. The summer heat and these constant degradations are pushing me to the edge. I don’t know how much more of this I can take before I lose myself entirely.

Summer vacation has destroyed every last boundary I had. M3ssages come non-stop from morning till deep night no schedule, no escape, just constant pings in secret chats that vanish in seconds. The words are getting darker and more humiliating every day:

“Ma’am, akeli ghar pe hai na? Hum sab milke ghar mein ghus ke tujhe bed pe jakad denge, saari raat chodenge jab tak tu roye na.”

“Randi teacher, teri choot aur gaand dono ko ek saath pel denge, itna zor se thokenge ki tu chal bhi nahi payegi.”

“Kutiya ban ke baith, humara maal tere muh, choot, gaand aur poore chehre pe daal denge, photo bhej apni nangi body ki warna sab milke aa jayenge.”

Thick, veiny cocks flash constantly monstrous sizes that still shock me, hairy sweaty bases, shaved bulging heads, curved ones, giants dripping precum. Videos of them stroking furiously over my photos, calling me “sasti randi ma’am”, “class ki common choot”, “teacher cumdump”, then exploding thick, yellowish loads all over my face on their screens .

My body has completely surrendered. The second these degrading threats appear. I imagining them breaking every limit is making me feel too much. I come harder than ever violent, orgasms that leave me shaking, crying, and begging in my own head for more humiliation. The worse they degrade me, the stronger tingling I feel. I’m addicted to being treated like worthless fuckmeat by my own students.

Nine years of no real touch has turned me into this pathetic, dripping mess. I still haven’t replied. I still haven’t sent anything. But the rot is complete. I keep waiting for the next m3ssage like a desperate whore, terrified and excited about how much lower I can sink.

Summer has no end, and neither does my sickness.