The Book Lover

First a screenshot of you sleeping, soft and unaware. Then one of you changing. Then one of you touching yourself, legs spread, face buried in the pillow like no one could possibly see.

Picture after picture — you crying on the floor after a bad day, you laughing on a video call, you half-naked and vulnerable in moments where you thought you were alone.

Every notification making your stomach drop and your body react in ways you hate. Your hands shaking as you open each one. You feel exposed, violated, and somehow still turned on. You keep staring at the pictures of yourself that you never meant for anyone to see, heart racing, thighs pressing together despite the fear.

Now it's simple, I'm going to question you. And you'll respond by nodding or shaking your head. Even a stupid cunt can manage that I'm sure.

Are you my owned toy?

Do you deserve abuse?

Should you be allowed to cum?

Do you need my abuse?

Do you deserve mercy?

Should I break you?

Are you a person?

Should I treat you like a person?

Does it want to be used?

Does it want me to use it to get off?