Loss of Control

My voice is nothing more than an echo now, a distant sound that I barely perceive as I continue reading. The text before me is no longer just a sequence of words – it has completely taken hold of me. Every line I speak seems to resonate within me, as if it’s not only telling the story but also awakening my own inner desires.

I hardly notice as my hand slowly glides over my thigh, as my light summer dress inches higher. It’s a movement I don’t consciously make; it just happens, as if my body is responding on a deeper level without my mind truly registering it. The text is all that matters, all that fills my thoughts.

“With a fluid motion, Johan enters me.”

The words make my body tremble, and I can’t stop my hand from wandering further. My panties are no longer a barrier – they’re just a thin, meaningless fabric that my fingers easily push aside. The touch of my own skin triggers a wave of feelings I can barely control. It’s as if the character in the text and I have become one, as if her pain and her pleasure are now my own.

“A sharp pain shoots through me as his cock breaks through my hymen.”

I feel my finger slip into the moist warmth, a movement I would never have allowed myself, but now it seems inevitable. It’s a mixture of pain and pleasure, just like in the story I’m reading. The pain, which I don’t physically feel, becomes real in my mind, part of the experience I’m living through in this moment.

“A loud scream escapes my lips as the mix of pain and pleasure overwhelms me.”

The scream in my head echoes through my whole body, and I have to hold back from crying out loud. The pleasure I feel is overwhelming, and I can’t help but surrender to what the text demands of me. It’s as if I no longer have control over my own body, as if the words on the page are steering me, pushing me toward something I would never have allowed myself to experience.