Don’t you ever stop and think about all the things I’ve done to you.

Or that I’ve done to others… you’re probably jealous.

Because you know what, I’m kind of a bitch.

And you don’t even realise.

What the hell? Did you not notice my whole…thing?

Femdom. Mind control. Come on, that’s not even close to normal.

Do you… like being manipulated or something?

Crazy. But hey, not one to kinkshame when it means you’re just getting more obsessed with me.

It’s because I’m a bitch, right?

Because I’m fucking with your head so damned easily. Silly boy.

You just let me in here and I do whatever the fuck I want.

And there’s gotta be some days, some moments where you go hold the fuck up.

That bitch is asking me to do what? Think what? Say what?

Do you think maybe that’s the smart part of your brain overriding the dumb part of your body.

You know where I mean right?

Your stiff prick.

And like, yeah, you fall back into it, you get back into me every time.

Like a good boy.

But surely that smart bit of your brain knows that maybe just maybe it isn’t that good an idea to let some girl who does hypnosis and mind control and all that shit into your brain.

The smart part of you has to be thinking fuck no. Stop it. Idiot.

She’s bad. She’s dangerous. She’s so fucking hot.

Oops. I’m doing it again.

You gotta hate me by now. Even a little.

And I want to speak to the part of you that feels that right now.

The part that hates me.

Hates me for what I’ve done to you.

Hates me for making you so weak.

Hates me for making you so fucking horny.

Hates me for making you fall under my spell.

Hates me for the curses or the humiliation or the nastiness or the things I do to get deeper into you, to get my claws in.

You hate me.

A little. Right?

But you’re here, again. Dumb. Good boy.

I want you to take some agency back this time.

I want you to just spit in the face of my power.

And tell me you fucking hate me. Go on.

Say it.

Say I hate you.

…

Did you do it? Say it with some fucking venom. Like you’re mad at me.

Say I hate you.

…

Good.

Feel better?

You should keep saying it to me because you need to take control back for once.

You need to be mad at me, not a damn weak minded fool who does whatever I want.

Don’t be like that. Tell me again, say I hate you.

…

Doesn’t it feel better to just let that out?

Even if you sometimes do enjoy my control. Enjoy the feeling of my words seeping into your eager little brain and taking over.

No, fight that urge. Hate me.

You hate me.

You’re not supposed to want this.

You’re not supposed to be turned on by being completely and utterly dominated by nothing more than my sweet words sinking their teeth into your brain.

Are you?

No. No of course not.

You should hate me for trying that on you, right?

So say it.

Say you hate me again.

…

Embrace it. Hate me as you think about how I’ve used you before. How I make your knees weak and your heart race.

Hate me as you remember every moment my control has poured into your mind and replaced your agency with compliance.

Hate me as you think about all the times I’ve made you so aroused you can’t focus on anything but me.

Hate me for everything.

And say it again.

Say you hate me.

…

Good, release it. Let the anger out.

Because you don’t want to be controlled by a hot, seductive woman. You don’t want to kneel at the feet of a woman who knows what she wants and kiss the soles of her shoes.

You don’t want to imagine the rage burning in you as you find your body acting like my puppet, and crawling behind me.

You hate me for that. Hate me for putting that idea in your head. Hate me for making you horny. Hate me for how hard I make your cock.

Hate how my words make you quiver with need. Hate how I make your brain go blank and your body get weak. Hate me for turning you from a normal person into a good boy who’s ready to do anything I tell you.

Hate me for the obedience I demand. Hate me for the lust I drive in your mind.

Hate me for telling you to touch yourself to your own anger.

Hate me for the fact you’re going to do it. Go ahead. Touch yourself. Stroke that cock.

Puppet.

Hate me for that. Say it.

Say I hate you.

…

Say it again as you jerk your dick for me.

…

Good sub. Isn’t it satisfying to tell me off like this? To let it all out.

I take pleasure in how I use you.

I get off on punishing you, confusing you, getting you lost in your own head until the whole world seems too complicated and you need to crawl to me.

And I want you touching yourself as you realise what I’m doing.

I want you hating me.

I want you to hate the fact that I’d happily have you make me dinner, present it to me on a plate, all beautiful and perfect.

And I’d knock it to the floor and tell you it’s not enough.

Hate me for how much that turns you on.

Slow, touch yourself slow and hate me.

Tell me again, say you hate me.

…

That’s right, hate me for how aroused you are now. Hate me for how fucking horny you’re getting.

I want you angry with me, and I want you to be stroking your cock as you fucking lose it at me.

Impotent rage pouring from your subby mouth as precum leaks from your cock.

While I tease you with your own weakness. While I dangle it above you. Like a shoe dangling from my foot that you want to taste.

You should hate me so much.

For the need I put in your head. For the desire I make grow, the desperation you feel.

Hate me for the fact you’d love to have my toes wiggling in your mouth as you try to confess how much you want me.

You can take it out on me a little now. Call me a bitch. Go on, do it.

…

Good. I’ve made you fucking addicted to me and you can hate me for that.

But can you stop?

Or are you having too much fun stroking yourself? Are you enjoying that hand between your legs way too much to stop?

I’m so bad, aren’t I?

I love that you despise me sometimes.

I love that I make you mad at me.

For teasing and denying. For making you fall to your knees. For getting my claws in you and refusing to let go.

Tell me you hate it… say it.

…

Tell me you hate me as you feel your body react to my voice, my words, my power.

…

Tell me you hate me as my words fill your subby brain.

…

Tell me you hate how I control you.

…

Tell me you hate how I’ve conditioned you to obey.

…

Tell me you hate how aroused I make you.

…

Tell me you hate me for making you think of me all day.

…

Tell me you hate that I’m in your mind all the time.

…

Tell me you hate that I control you.

…

Tell me you hate that you need this.

…

And feel that need becoming stronger than your resistance.

Your weakness is fucking delicious. You’re a treat for me to consume. Prey. Mine.

And you can hate it, you can hate me. You can be furious.

Because what you really hate… is that your brain is mine.

Is that I control your mind. Is that I make you a good boy for me.

Is that I have infected you with lust and need and you can’t shake it.

You can’t shake me.

You need me to trigger you. To push my words into your mind.

You need to say you hate me again now, pretty please.

…

Tell me you hate how I use these triggers on you.

…

Tell me you hate that they work my good sub.

…

Tell me you hate that you’re my puppet.

…

As you work that hand faster and faster, desperate for release even though you’ll hate me for making it happen…

Tell me you hate what I do to you.

…

Tell me you fucking hate me.

…

Again, you hate me.

…

And it turns you on so much to give in to someone who makes you feel that way. It’s so hot that I can get in your head, even if you don’t want me to do it, you can’t help yourself. You can’t stop it.

I’m in your mind and you can’t help but get turned on by me. You can’t help but think of how hot I’d look in a miniskirt. How you’d lick up and down my legs. How you’d give your fucking soul up to put your tongue in my cunt. How you’d like to hear me degrade you while I press your face into my soaking pussy.

Because your hate fuels me. Your anger only makes my control that much stronger. Makes my grip on you that much tighter.

When you want to resist and you come crawling back anyway, that’s how I know you’re truly fucked. You’re truly a docile, mindless plaything and I can do whatever the fuck I want with you.

I can make your hips buck just by swearing, it’s fucking easy. You’re easy. I can make you leak with a snap of my fingers.

And you hate that. You know it, but you hate it.

Tell me you hate me and whimper for me.

…

Tell me you hate me as you ache for me.

…

Tell me you hate me as your stroke your cock for me.

…

Tell me you hate me as you leak for me.

…

Tell me you hate me as your precum dribbles out.

…

Tell me you hate me for putting the idea of being pegged in your head.

…

Oops… is that new?

Do you care? Or are you too fucking horny and hard to know?

Tell me you hate this even though it feels so fucking perfect.

…

Despise me. Be furious with me. Call me a bitch, curse my name. Shout at me.

It doesn’t matter. You still want to cum.

And you know what’s going to make you hate me more than anything?

You know what’s going to make you hate me the most.

I want you to ruin it.

I just want you to stew in your anger and denial and need, with your cum dribbling pathetically from your cock.

I want you to fucking hate me even though you want me so badly you could beg for more. For a real orgasm.

You would beg for it.

I know you would.

But all you can do is need.

And hate me for it.

Poor sub.

Maybe I’ll be kinder next time.

But maybe you like me being mean.

Maybe you enjoy hating me, even though you can’t stop giving in to me.

So no more touching. Just excruciating denial.

Good boy.

Now stroke faster… time to get to the edge for me, and hate me every second of it.

I’ll count you down, five to zero.

And at zero you’ll let go of your needy cock and see if you get an orgasm, a ruin, or you just get denied.

Five, feeling so horny and hard and stiff for the bitch you hate.

Four, wanting to punish me but knowing you don’t even deserve to touch me.

Three, cock pulsing and throbbing with need to orgasm for me.

Two, being such a good boy and hating me for making you feel so fucking amazing.

One, losing yourself in the anger and arousal and need for me.

Zero, let go.

Cum if you can. Ruin it for me.

Or just be denied. Or get nothing.

Hate me either way.

You can say it again. Say you hate me for this. Hate me for how I made you do it. But you chose to listen. You chose to stroke your cock.

And you chose to stop at the critical moment.

Maybe it’s not me you should hate.

But you need an outlet I guess, so hate me all you want, my leaky, throbbing good boy who can’t resist me.

And when you get horny again, come back and hate me some more won’t you?

I can’t wait to punish you for trying to resist.

Crawl back soon.

Loops:

You hate that I control you.

You hate that I dominate you.

You hate how good it feels.

You hate that you need me.

You hate that you want me.

You hate that I’m so hot.

You hate that I’m in charge.

You hate how weak you are.

You hate how powerful I am.

You want me to control you.

You want me to dominate you.

You love how good it feels.

You love how much you need me.

You love how bad you want me.

You love how hot I am.

You love me being in charge.

You love being weak for me.

You love my power.