It's so easy for you to become mesmerized with chitchat, to the point where you believe that these only choices are yours to make. You notice peer pressure and that you're in places where you thought you'd never go. They ignore your little complaints and you think that it's playfully normal. But what you don't realize is that these are calculated impulses perpetrated by compulsive violators of vulnerable people like you.

Even when they're smearing excrements on your back and chest, then on your face, you let yourself go. Dead eyes, annoyment and acceptance due to some weird feeling of duty. It's called peer pressure, in case you didn't know. It's not your fault that you had a choice and didn't make it. You couldn't have. And if you had made it, they would have tied you down and dragged you to their bed, just like they did in the end after you said yes to everything.

What could you have done? You could have noticed that when annoyment was clear in your face right after you complied, they threw a bowel of shit on your face. You could have noticed that while you hadn't agreed to anything, every tiny disagreement that you had was disregarded.

The crossing point

Didn't you see them walking like vultures around you? They said barbarities that you would have noticed hadn't you already closed off your barriers in order to be able to stand the way they were treating you. After progressive upgrades, they didn't wait for the frog to get boiled little by little. They did turn the heat up little by little, and when they noticed its trying to jump, they took it out for a little while, then put it back in and closed the lid.

They gave you cigarettes, let you wash, they smiled and played, you smiled and played with them and it was as if you had consented to everything to begin with. Then they took you to sleep, and it was so warm and cozy. You dreamt of bunnies in a dazzling pyramid where the cosmic gods called your name. And then they woke you up and dragged you to their bed.

You didn't notice the only one who could have felt for you. She was right behind you, smiling with her left hand under her cheek. And then all those things you thought you had consented to were forced down upon you. All your smiles were turned into signs of deceit. They used your stomach as their septic tank and pulled out their ogres, orcs and trolls and they were all so ugly that you didn't notice the different faces. All you knew was that you heard their orgasms in your suffering and you felt delicately jailed by your consent.

Overcome your nausea, little one. My favorite thing has become an object and she knows it so well that she may cry herself to sleep, but she would not dare to run when the door is open. But it's ok. Where they see a vulgar slut, I see a tender and disposable marionette who thought she was a woman and dreamt of stars beyond her reach.

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