Archangel Jegudiel

I wouldn’t think twice about going out in next to nothing, my nipple straining through my tiny top and putting my silicone tits even more on display.

when someone asked me to do something degrading I’d just giggle and comply, just knowing that it feels so good to obey and get attention.

immediately moaning at the slightest touch because I’ve become an insatiable slut.

pouting and stomping my foot over silly things, like the purse I want being sold out. emotional and immature.

being shamelessly stupid, not realizing when I’m being condescended to or being made fun of.

until I come out of trance, preferably in the middle of something particularly humiliating and start to remember that this isn’t normal, that I shouldn’t be doing this!

Content Warning: Mantra and edging encouragement, themes of submission and inferiority.

Why do you keep finding yourself waking at night like this? Your mind and hands are wandering before you are conscious enough to intervene, venturing into forbidden thoughts and teasing your sensitive parts before you can even realize where you are.

This time, though, it's too much. How long has it been? Days? Weeks? You've lost track. It doesn't matter. You need to feel it again. Tonight, you think, you might finally be so desperate as to give into those thoughts, to succumb to those fantasies. To dance up to the edge and find the ecstasy you long to feel.

I'll be discreet, I'll be quick, you say. One edge. What would it hurt? A little taste then you can drift back to sleep. Back to your dreams.

You can barely hold back the moans. You bite your lip and whimper as your hips thrust against your pathetic fantasies. Your fears dissolved into lust as your body shakily works its way towards climax.

You know what it's doing to you. You know what it makes you. What you are. But you don't care. All you care about, in that moment, is the pleasure of basking in your inferiority. And the world is fading away and your discretion is evaporating as your moans escape into the cool night air.

And those words. Those words you long to speak. They linger on your tongue, reminding you of your place, dripping with desperation and need.

You know what to say, and in your mind you finally hear their voice permitting you.

Say it.

You speak and your body convulses, your words shaking as you edge, barely choking out the final, pivotal syllables.

Again.

The blinding pleasure of your submission blocks your reason and restraint as you edge out the words again, unable to stop.

Again.

The loop is entrenched as you lock into the rhythm, body and mind teetering on the edge of bliss at each repetition, knowing, in the back of your mind, that the truth in your words grows stronger and stronger with each edge and each loop, forming an impossibly strong bond.

You know what you are.

So say it.

You know where you belong.

So say it.

You know what you need.

So say it.

The loop consumes you and the world crumbles away as you spiral downwards with one singular focus. The only thing you know is what you are and what you need. And you know exactly how to get it.

You know what to say.

You had several needs of validation ✨

A background hypno subliminal file for all my aspiring edge sluts.

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