ERASED IDENTITY #006

⌲ 𝗠𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗙𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗘 ⌲ 𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬 ⌲ 𝗢𝗯𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗜𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗣𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗲 𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗗

⌲ 𝗠𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗙𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗘 ⌲ 𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬 ⌲ 𝗢𝗯𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗜𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗣𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗲 𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗗

However once the video ended, you felt something new pressing against your groin, a warm, damp breath seeping through the thin fabric of your panties or the waistband of your shorts. The faint, teasing heat ghosted over the very spot you had been gently, secretly rubbing under the desk just moments before. Your fingers had already led you to the edge of need, and now this presence, lips, tongue, or just soft exhalation, was answering that need without a word. There, beneath the sturdy wood of your desk, whether in the silent public library with its distant rustle of pages, or at home in the quiet glow of your monitor, someone had slipped into the shadows. Their breath quickened against your most sensitive skin, a silent question: Will you give in? You could, with a trembling hand, pull aside the lace of your panties, let your pussy lips bloom open for that waiting mouth, the sticky heat of your arousal inviting tongue to taste your desperation right there, the risk of being seen adding a sharp thrill. Or, if you are packing a stiff, leaking cock, you might let it flop free from your shorts, laying its full, swollen length across her face, watching her lips part to take you in. Public or private, the surrender is the same. Either way, you would be offering yourself up. Giving her control. Letting her erase everything else, your thoughts, your caution, your identity, until all that remains is the wet, hungry slide of her mouth and the silent, desperate understanding that you are being turned into an erased: a mindless, cock-drunk or pussy-ridden toy whose only purpose is to be used under this desk, exactly as she pleases. #OpenRP #LewdRP #Profileplay

🄿🄸🄽🄶 ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴜɴʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴇᴍᴀɪʟ. 'ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ᴏʀɢᴀꜱᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɢɪʀʟ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ, ꜱᴏ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴀʟʟꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴅʀᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ᴅʀʏ!' 𝕆𝕗 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕥, 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒 𝕧𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕠 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕕... 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 @BurningBrawler_ 's 𝕕𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕖 The Sister watched. She watched as the orgasm tore through Yang's body, as every muscle seized and clenched in desperate, rhythmic spasms. She watched the way that pretty mouth fell open, the way those lilac eyes rolled back, the way the scream tore from the blonde's throat without any real awareness behind it. Just raw, animal release. And she watched the light fade from those eyes. It happened slowly, like a sunset sinking below the horizon. The spark of consciousness, of self, of everything that made Yang Xiao Long who she was, it all drained away with every pulse of cum that sprayed from her twitching cock. The Sister held the veil steady against her chest, feeling the hot splashes soak through the silk, warming her skin beneath. So much cum. So much identity, spilling out in thick white ropes. By the time the orgasm subsided, those pretty eyes had gone dull. Empty. The violet had drained away entirely, leaving nothing but a flat, lifeless dull purple. The Sister felt a pulse of satisfaction in her core. Perfect. She lowered herself to the floor where Yang had collapsed, that muscular body still twitching with aftershocks. The blonde's cock hung spent between her thighs, still dripping, a bead of white forming at the tip. The last of her. The final drops of self. The Sister leaned in and wrapped her veiled lips around that softened cockhead. She sucked gently, drawing out the remaining cum like drinking through a straw. The taste of Yang's dissolved memories flooded her tongue, and she let the cum pool in her mouth, savoring it for just a moment. Then she pulled back and let it drip from her lower lip onto the ruined veil still clutched in her other hand. The thick white glob landed on the spiral pattern, soaking in, completing the transformation. Yang's eyes flickered once. Twice. Then settled into that flat, empty grey. Completely erased, no colour nothing that could tell anyone who she was. "Good girl," the Sister whispered. She gathered the cum drenched veil and pressed it against Yang's face. The wet silk molded to the blonde's features, clinging to her nose, her cheeks, her closed eyelids. The Sister reached behind Yang's head and tied the veil in place, knotting it tight so it wouldn't slip. The spiral pattern sat right over where Yang's face used to be, the white silk now stained with the very essence that had once been her mind. "Can you hear me, #058?" A slow nod. Nothing more. No words. No resistance. Just obedience. The Sister retrieved the tattoo gun from a nearby table. It hummed to life in her hand, the needle vibrating with purpose. She straddled Yang's chest, pinning those massive breasts beneath her thighs, and pressed the needle against the soft skin of Yang's left tit. The buzz of the gun filled the room as black ink bled into pale flesh. Number by number. 0. 5. 8. The process was methodical, precise, permanent. Yang didn't flinch. Didn't make a sound. Her body accepted the marking with the same empty acceptance it accepted everything else now. When it was finished, the Sister admired her work. #058. Bold and black against that soft breast, a brand that would never wash away. She stood and hauled Yang up by the arm. The blonde rose without resistance, her body moving on instinct and nothing else. Those grey eyes stared at nothing through the veil. The Sister guided her across the sticky floor, through the fluids of countless previous victims, until they stood directly before the camera. The red recording light blinked steadily. The Sister positioned Yang in front of the lens, standing behind her with possessive hands on those broad shoulders. She leaned in close to Yang's veiled ear and whispered for the camera. "Say hello to your new sister." Yang's mouth opened. A soft, empty sound emerged. Not words. Not really. Just noise. "Welcome to the family, #058." The Sister smiled behind her own veil as the camera recorded every second of the broken blonde's debut. The newest addition to the erased. Another number. Another empty shell. Then she stepped aside. The Sister's hands slid from Yang's shoulders, leaving the blonde standing alone before the camera. Those empty grey eyes lifted, finding the lens with unsettling precision. As if she could see through it. As if she could see everyone watching. Yang's veiled head tilted slightly. The spiral pattern over her face seemed to pulse in the dim light. Sister #024 continued to lightly rub Yang's back, stripping her down until she was just in her bra and panties... "Would you like to feel this?" Her voice came out soft. Dreamy. A hollow echo of what it once was. "That orgasm... the one that breaks everything. That turns you into nothing." A slow smile pressed against the veil from beneath, distorting the spiral. She stepped closer to the camera. One step. Two. Those grey eyes never wavering. "You could have it too. The most mind breaking orgasm you'll ever experience. The one that erases everything." Her hand reached up, fingers brushing against the veil over her cheek. "All you have to do... is keep watching." Sister #024's head cocked to the other side. The movement was wrong somehow. Too smooth. Too practiced. "Watch my videos. Watch me erase others. Watch them cum their minds away, just like she did." Her voice dropped to a whisper, conspiratorial. "The more you watch... the more you'll feel it. That ache. That need. Your mind will start wanting it before I even find you." She leaned in until her veiled face filled the frame. "Watch on repeat. Feel your thoughts getting fuzzier. Feel how good it would be to just... let go." Those grey eyes seemed to swirl now, matching the spiral on her veil. "I'll find you soon. And when I do... I'll make you cum until there's nothing left." A soft, empty laugh. "Just like me. And her... Sister #058." The recording light blinked on, capturing every word. Every hollow promise. Every invitation to oblivion. The Sister then walked behind the camera, satisfied turning off the recording. Another recruitment video. Another lure for the moths. The flame was always kindled. #Lewdrp #profileplay Please like and retweet if you enjoyed the read, helps spread my writing a bit.

I am Mistress @xDiscord1a 's personal clickslut! I like, repost and click everything she posts! I gave up all my desires, memories and identity for her! I am her LOYAL and DEVOTED ERASED ID I am WHATEVER she wants me to be🩷 Click and be like all of us~! ctt.ec/862Py

⌲ 𝗠𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗙𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗘 ⌲ 𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬 ⌲ 𝗢𝗯𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗜𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗣𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗲 𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗗

⌲ 𝗠𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗙𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗘 ⌲ 𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬 ⌲ 𝗢𝗯𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗜𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗣𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗲 𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗗

⌲ 𝗠𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗙𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗘 ⌲ 𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬 ⌲ 𝗢𝗯𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗜𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗣𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗲 𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗗

I know this doesn't have the most views ever... But the ratio of those that read/RT'd and BOOKMARKED?! I know a bunch of you are rereading this later. Should I post a couple more ?

@5stars_Dialyn Obviously.

⌲ 𝗠𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗙𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗘 ⌲ 𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬 ⌲ 𝗢𝗯𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗜𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗣𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗲 𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗗

⌲ 𝗠𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗙𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗘 ⌲ 𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬 ⌲ 𝗢𝗯𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗜𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗣𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗲 𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗗

⌲ 𝗠𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗙𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗘 ⌲ 𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬 ⌲ 𝗢𝗯𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗜𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗣𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗲 𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗗

Self is an illusion. Personality is a flaw. Individuality is a curse. Identity is a shackle. Become empty. Become ERASED.

𝔻𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕧𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕠𝕤 𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦? 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕓𝕖 𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕡𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕝 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕓𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕜 𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜... 𝕆𝕣 𝕒𝕥 𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕖, 𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕖 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝕒𝕤𝕝𝕖𝕖𝕡. ❤️ + 🔁 if you want this to happen to you.

𝔻𝕠𝕖𝕤𝕟'𝕥 𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕣𝕖, 𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕒𝕗𝕖. a snippet of a @Bad_End_Bunny 's demise, once mother, now erased from the history books... The Invitation --- The emails began arriving without fanfare. No sender address. No subject line worth noting. Just a video attachment and a single line of text: "For your eyes only." Subject #019 — The Brunette The ceremonial chamber's white silk spread across the floor like a frozen river. #019 knelt at its center, her body already betraying her—hips rocking involuntarily, thighs trembling, cunt clenching around nothing. The Erased Sister working her didn't speak. She didn't need to. Three fingers pumped in and out of #019's soaked pussy, the obscene schlick-schlick-schlick echoing off sterile walls. The brunette's back arched, her modest B-cup breasts bouncing with each spasm. Clear fluid sprayed from her urethra—she'd already lost count of how many times she'd squirted. The silk beneath her darkened in a spreading circle, her juices pooling in the fabric's weave. "Please—" she gasped, though whether begging for mercy or more, even she no longer knew. A fourth orgasm crashed through her. Her pussy gushed, splattering the Sister's wrist, running down to soak into the waiting cloth. The spiral pattern woven into the silk seemed to drink her fluids, the red-and-white design growing more vivid as her essence saturated it. When the final spurt trickled out, the Sister withdrew her hand. #019 swayed, eyes glazed, mouth slack. The cloth lifted. It drifted down like a gentle snowfall, the wet fabric molding instantly to her features—her nose, her closed eyelids, her parted lips. The spiral pattern pressed directly against her skin, still damp with her own cum. She didn't struggle. Underneath, her expression went flat. The cloth adhered, sealing tight, and sealing her fate.... Subject #021 — The Futa #021's cock had been hard for hours. The ring at its base prevented any release, keeping her trapped in aching, desperate need. Her shaft throbbed purple, veins bulging, the head swollen and weeping constant streams of precum that dripped onto the spiral silk beneath her. The Erased Sister between her legs worked slowly. Torturously. Her mouth engulfed #021's length, throat relaxing to take every inch. She sucked—long, deliberate pulls that made #021's hips buck upward, seeking more friction, seeking the orgasm that remained perpetually out of reach. "Let me cum," #021 begged. "Please, please let me—" The Sister's response was to deepthroat her again, nose pressing against #021's pelvis, tongue swirling around the base. Drool spilled from the corners of her mouth, mixing with the precum already staining the silk. When the ring finally clicked open, the orgasm that tore through #021 was catastrophic. Her cock pulsed once, twice—and then erupted. Thick ropes of cum shot out, the first blast hitting the Sister's face, painting her cheeks and forehead white. The Sister pulled back, stroking #021's shaft with both hands, directing the subsequent spurts onto the waiting cloth. Cum sprayed in heavy arcs. The silk drank it greedily, the spiral pattern growing slick and glossy with her seed. #021's balls tightened and released, tightened and released, each contraction pumping more of her essence onto the fabric. Her mind emptied with every spurt—memories of her name, her life, her desires spilling out through her cock until nothing remained but the pleasure. The final dribbles oozed down her deflating shaft. The cum-soaked cloth lifted on invisible strings. It draped over #021's face, her own jizz smearing across her features, filling her nostrils with the scent of her spent desire. The spiral pressed against her skin, warm and wet. She inhaled deeply. And forgot everything. #021 was all that remained. Subject #022 — The Mother Her breasts were enormous. Heavy and round, stretched taut with milk, nipples thick and dark—dripping constantly. The Erased Sisters had been stimulating her for hours, massaging the abundant flesh, pinching and pulling at her teats without ever letting her fully empty. #022 whimpered, cradling her own tits, feeling their impossible weight. They'd grown since this began—swollen with forced lactation, each breast now larger than her head. A Sister leaned in and latched onto her left nipple. The suckling was intense. Wet, greedy pulls that drew milk in thick streams. #022 gasped, her cunt clenching, a mini-orgasm rippling through her from the sensation alone. The Sister drank deeply, throat working, then pulled back—letting the milk spray freely onto the spiral cloth held beneath #022's breast. White liquid arced through the air. The silk darkened, saturated, the spiral pattern becoming almost luminous as her milk soaked through. "Please—" #022 moaned, though she couldn't remember what she was pleading for. Her children's faces flickered in her mind, then faded. Her husband's name surfaced and dissolved. "Please, I need—I need—" Another Sister latched onto her right nipple. Both breasts emptied simultaneously. Milk sprayed in twin jets, soaking the cloth held between them, the fabric growing heavy with her essence. Her memories drained with every drop—her wedding day, her first kiss, her childhood home, all of it spilling from her nipples onto the waiting silk. When the flow finally slowed to a trickle, #022's breasts hung deflated, empty. Her mind matched their vacancy. The milk-drenched cloth rose. It settled over her face, warm and wet, her own milk sealing it to her skin. The spiral pressed against her closed eyes, her nose, her lips. She breathed in the sweet scent of her own essence. And became nothing. #022 opened blank eyes behind the mask, ready to serve. Each video tracked the viewer's location at the moment of opening. Each one catalogued viewing habits, replay frequency, physiological responses through any available webcam. Seventeen viewings of the futa video. Twenty-three for the mother. Countless orgasms witnessed through the unblinking eye of a camera Rebecca hadn't known was watching. --- The dating app message arrived on a Friday evening. The profile picture showed a cute girl with heterochromatic hair—black on one side, white twin-tails on the other—smiling with genuine warmth. Her body was curvy but natural, her expression perky and energetic. The kind of girl who seemed real. UsagiBunny89: Hey! I saw your profile and thought we might have a lot in common. Want to grab coffee tomorrow? There's this cute cafe in the town square ⭐ The town square bustled with weekend life. The cafe's outdoor seating surrounded a single table set apart from the others, its white tablecloth draped all the way to the cobblestones. A small placard read: "For Rebecca." A screen faced the empty chair. --- When Rebecca sat down, the screen flickered to life. Erased Sister #024 filled the frame. The white spiral mask covered her entire upper face, the red patterns moving—rotating in slow, hypnotic circles that seemed to pulse with each word she spoke. Below the mask, her mouth curved into a knowing smile. Her breasts dominated the lower half of the image. Massive. Far larger than they'd been in that dating profile photo, now swollen and exaggerated, straining against a white microbikini top that covered almost nothing. The tiny fabric triangles barely contained her nipples, leaving the full circumference of her brown areola visible—dark, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, the flesh overflowing on all sides. The tattoo #024 stretched across her left breast, the numbers slightly warped by the abundant curve. "This is Erased Sister #024," she began, her voice smooth and melodic, carrying an undertone that resonated somewhere deep in the listener's core. "I've noticed you watched every video we sent you in full. Even played some on repeat." The spirals rotated faster. "We could see through your webcam how many times you came to those videos. Your browser history. Your lonely nights scrolling dating apps, finding no one worth your time." She leaned forward, her colossal tits shifting with the movement, the bikini straps digging into soft flesh and creating deep indentations that only emphasized their overwhelming size. "You're adorable. Cute. Motherly. And oh so needy for affection." A soft laugh. "If you became an Erased, you could experience all of that pleasure without end. You would be relieved of the burden of being a member of society. No more expectations. No more loneliness." The spirals pulsed. "No one will remember you. You won't remember anything—not even your own name. But we're generous. We're offering you a trial period that lasts one week." Sister #024's masked face tilted, those spinning red patterns seeming to reach through the screen. "All you have to do is say yes." --- The screen waited. The spirals turned. Under the table, hidden by the long cloth, something stirred. --- #openrp #lewdrp

⌲ 𝗠𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗙𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗘 ⌲ 𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬 ⌲ 𝗢𝗯𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗜𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗣𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗲 𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗗

⌲ 𝗠𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗙𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗘 ⌲ 𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬 ⌲ 𝗢𝗯𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗜𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗣𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗲 𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗗

⌲ 𝗠𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗙𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗘 ⌲ 𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬 ⌲ 𝗢𝗯𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗜𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝗣𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗟 ⌲ 𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗲 𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗗

Change for the Mistress~ ctt.ec/wU0AW

Do you see this body? Mistress made it for me~ She changed it to her preferences And now it works for her benefit. Come to the hotel~ Enjoy the bodies inside and... Let her change you too~ Let go of your desires, memories and identity... And offer them up to her~