My therapist said I should come and see you to deal with my dark fantasies. She said you might be able to help my poor soaking wet pussy. I was captured when I was just a young slutkin and sold like sex stock on the market to a cruel old man.
When the police finally freed me, it wasn’t long before my old haunts came creeping back to steal my little angels from me, and traffick us all as sex slaves! It’s terrible, Doctor, but it turns me on so much to remember what inhumane treatments I used to receive.
I know it’s just some fucked up PTSD and Stockholm Syndrome, but Doctor I can’t live like this! My therapist said you’ll do an intense therapy session with me, where I’ll be safe in your hands while having my sick desires fulfilled. Please, Doctor, you’re my only hope. As you can see in your initial examination, I’m soaked right to the bone. My cunt lips drip with sticky wet honey, all from my slutty little core.
Oh Doctor yes, please use the leather studded straps. My skin is begging to be broken open from sheer blunt trauma. Beat me senseless, Doctor. Use me up.
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